Otherworld
by Smegmey
Summary: Goblin Wood fanfic, takes place one year after Makenna, Tobin, and the goblins escape into Otherworld. Tobin/Makenna, Please R&R. Update frequency depends on reviews.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer_: These characters, places, and titles belong to Hilari Bell, author of Goblin Wood. She developed them, not me.**

_The hedgewitch stood high above the freshly grown Spring canopy over the Goblin city, her shadow elongated behind across a jutting cliff. Gazing into the distant horizon that was illuminated by the mellow glow of the setting sun, Makenna watched as a Goblin expedition, led by Tobin, made way for the uncharted lands of Otherworld. It seemed they had only just settled, having hardly enough time to gather rosters of residents before goblins felt the need to explore their limitless surroundings. The threat of humans and the old realms Hierarchy long passed, they allowed the band to leave, with the promise that they would return in four months time. _

_She had wanted to refuse blatantly, wishing nothing more then for them to live in undisturbed peace and prosperity for the rest of their days, but fate would have it another way. When Tobin offered to lead the expedition, as an act of reassurance to Makenna, his gesture only caused her to produce an unwilling compromise. _

_Now, on the very day they left, she observed their departure wearily until the cover of darkness urged her home. Following the disguised trail back to the city, which resided in the nook between two mountain sides, she gathered her wits, blinking away misty eyes and hardening her resolve to complete leftover tasks concerning the city's development while her friends were gone. In a single gulp she swallowed her sadness, her expression stiffening as she hiked. _

Makenna wiped a sweaty brow under the harsh late afternoon sun, her face tanned from days of working in the harvest fields. That day, from dawn until a now approaching dusk, she had escaped from her complicated duties to work fervently, plucking ripened vegetables and fruits from the lush rows of tilled land lain out before the mountainside. Surrounded by all sorts of sizes and talented goblins, with her city humming lively behind her, she felt safely at home.

"Mistress," Onny called in approach, breaking Makenna's thoughtless stare. She knelt down to meet the young goblin girl, who hardly stood as high as her knee. "Yes, Onny?" The Finder clutched her food soiled apron, eyes twitching nervously to the fields northernmost perimeter.

"One of the herbers saw a large group of people nearing the forests edge from the herb groves. They said the band was made of strange creatures, should I find Miggy for you," Makenna shook her head, chest tightening as fear gripped her for the first time since the centaur creatures had approached. The centaurs had arrived in vast numbers, first frightening the goblins into thinking they planned to attack. Instead, they sent an ambassador in, merely wishing for diplomacy; to make a friendly truce to remain distant, but not unaware of one another's affairs. They were just one of the many creatures the Goblins had encountered on their travels in Otherworld.

With a shaky breath she exhaled her unease, allowing the calm of planning to take over. "No, I think I know where Miggy is, I will find him. Gather all the Finders and harvesters from the fields and bring them back to the city. We will be taking defensive action immediately," With a note of authority, she dismissed Onny, cutting a button of her loose tunic shirt and handing it to the girl. Then, setting down her basket of berries, she sprinted down the long rows towards the western outskirts of the fields. Rushing past hidden roadways in the sapling forest towards the Goblin's watchtower, Makenna nearly missed the group of camouflaged Stoners as they fled their construction work.

"Gill!" she called after one of her friend's son. The young goblin boy was larger than the rest, half Makenna's own height. He halted mid stride at Makenna's voice. "Y-yes Gen'ral?" he asked, taking a rigged soldier's stance and facing her. The others waited a moment before continuing on onwards to the city without him.

"What news have you of the creatures approaching?" Gill blinked blankly a few times before procuring an answer, side glancing at the direction he had arrived from. "T-the creatures? They are ...nearly here! We should retreat to the city right now," he said before trying to dart off into the darkening woods. She blocked his path, still wanting answers. _He knew how to escape easily, why is he so eager?_

"Are there anymore workers left behind you, and wasn't Miggy with you?" The goblin boy shook his head rapidly, his messy brown hair tossing back and forth. "No, Gen'ral, no one, let's go!" he called, finally dodging passed her and disappearing into the forest. With no defense at her back, she was forced to retreat to the city like the rest.

"What do you mean you lost sight of them?" Makenna's tone was irritated, her attempts at keeping calm failing. Miggy stood stark still, his eyes cast down from his mistress while he spoke. "It was an innocent mistake Gen'ral. The Trackers are busy hunting to the woods in the east. They'll be back by morn, not a second sooner. It's not our fault the creatures seemingly disappeared from under our noses," he explained, voice steady.

Makenna hid her annoyance behind a clenched jaw. She turned to pace in an unoccupied corner of their armaments fortress, her rapid footsteps echoing around the carved out cave. Currently most of the citizen goblins were in the upper tiers of the city, finding safe shelter from the possible threat of attack. Makenna and her small army of 500 goblins waited in the battlements which guarded the entrance to the higher city as it sloped up the mountainside. She'd strategically placed Flamers, Stoners, and Charmers all along the upper city's perimeter to ensure the people's safety. Now, her heart beat in quick succession as she planned her next action.

"Gen'ral!" called an exasperated goblin from the crack entrance of the cave. He slid through, past the draperies hung for warmth for the oncoming autumn, and ran up to her, panting. "What is it?" she demanded. The goblin pointed back towards the lower levels of the city. "They're here! In the city!" he cried dramatically. Makenna cocked and eyebrow, catching a glimpse of a smirk playing on Miggy's lips. "What is going on here?" she asked genuinely before rushing outside into the almost set sun.

As she neared the edge of the cave opening, she peered over the stone and molder wall to see a massive group of Goblins approaching them through the city's main path. Their observant eyes caught her through the leaf filled canopy, and the group waved enthusiastically, many shrieking cheers of joy and jubilation. Makenna let a breath out she hadn't known she was holding. Using the wall for support as waves of crashing relief tumbled over her, she gave up battling her bursting tears. _They're back, they're finally back. _She turned, sending a glare of annoyance mixed with affection at Miggy and the goblins, who smiled mischievously, their deception having been extracted perfectly.

"Mistress!" suddenly cried master Erebus as the goblins near her station, the old goblin's body tittering back and forth as he waddled to greet her. She knelt down, arms wide and hugged him tightly. "Where have you been you heathens, you're nearly a month late! St. Agna help me, I'm going to wring your necks-" she began sputtering, wiping her watery eyes. "I can't wait to tell you of what we've discovered! Well, if you offer knowledge of what's taken place here of coarse," the Bookie trailed. As goblins filed past, the last of the expedition group returned in good spirits, meeting loved ones that came spilling from the upper tier of the city. From the crest of her vantage point, Makenna saw a familiar mop of brown hair gradually rise above the path.

As Tobin approached, Makenna oddly noted her loneliness seemed to melt away. She loved her goblins, they were all she had, but her human side yearned for a familiarity that the goblins could not provide. She'd no idea just how much she had missed Tobin until she began to feel back to normal once again.

Observantly she marked his appearance had hardened from months of travel. His hair was slightly longer, but one side was still neatly tucked behind one of his ears, his face was sober, but his eyes twinkled. "Tobin!" she called, hardly caring to stop herself from running towards him like some desperate child. He dropped his bags, arms open until they embraced. The ex-knight laughed as she refused to pull away, his chest jostling up and down in amusement.

"Should I go away more often? It seems I'll never get this attention if I don't," he admitted, grinning. Makenna pulled away finally, crossing her arms on her chest tartly. "You go away again, and you'll be met with a barrage of spears and stones upon your return," she said, eyes narrowing in warning, but her face then softened. She turned about to watch as families met their long gone loved ones, goblin chatter echoing through the woods. "I'd best get some food for you hungry explorers' I guess,"

With the sun now down, torches lit their way back through the woods to the battlements hall, which also served as a place for community feasts. Over her time here, Makenna has seen that many of the goblins were socially parallel to humans; they often did not venture beyond their own circle of friends. She hoped by bringing the public together, strong bonds between the citizens would be made. Of coarse, it was not mandatory to attend, but she had recorded that an increasing number of goblins came to attend every feast.

Sitting at one of the many rectangular tables that had been crafted from stone and old logs, Makenna ate, conversing away with her friends, her heart lightening with every word. "What I don't get is how you bribed the Trackers to hide them in the woods," she offered, drilling Miggy. The second in command frowned, pushing at his dinner with his fingers. "I traded the lot of them my pine cone collection, after that it was easy enough to have the expedition wait a few miles off when they found out we wanted to surprise you," Makenna sighed, angry and pleased with her comrades planning capabilities. "And the rest of the city? How'd you tell them this was going on without letting it slip to me!" she asked, curiosity eating away at her skull. "Now that, that you'll never know," he said with a wink. Makenna groaned, disappointed.

When the stream of food and drinks began to slow, Makenna sensed it was time for a formal announcement of the expeditions success in returning home. She cleared her throat, standing up to begin. "I hope you've all had your fill," she started, her gaze meeting every pair of small goblins eyes that ranged from hazel to purple. "We feast in celebration of our expedition's return," she reminded them, eyes drifting to the head table where the group she spoke of sat. "May the news they bring confirm our safety and ensure a prosperous future in our new home, let us hope the need for such a departure never arrives again, and may they be cursed for not returning sooner!" she added with a grin. Goblins nodded, murmuring phrases of agreement before letting out one final uniform cheer of "To the expedition!"

Returning to her seat, Makenna listened as conversation burst out once more, spreading across the tables like wildfire. Peering around to the expedition table, she watched as many of their expressions transformed from a relaxed ease, to a taut anxiety. Tobin's suddenly pale face caught her stare worriedly. As he starred back, eyes fallen deep into warning, she could tell something was amiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you my one reviewer, your encouragement is the only reason I posted this chapter :) Enjoy!

**_Disclaimer_: These characters, places, and titles belong to Hilari Bell, author of Goblin Wood. She developed them, not me.**

The Knight:

Tobin awoke with a start, something from the physical world shaking him out of his dreams. Hand flinching to his sword-less belt, he gripped the shirt of a goblin who stood beside him. Erebus squeaked, surprised at the lords quick defensive actions. "Lord Tobin," he began quickly, "the Watchers have spotted stray black bears roaming the mountainsides, they seem rabid and have taken a liking to our perimeters," he whispered hoarsely. Tobin rolled over in his cot, sitting up, slipping on leather boots, and opening his eyes to peer at his comrade in the dark tent. "Can the Charmers subdue them and send them away?" he asked routinely. He thought he saw Erebus shake his head, but the shroud like dark, even with the moon out, still fogged his vision.

"No, they tried. Rather, _Belnan _tried, he's now in the herber's tent with a fit of vomiting," the old goblin explained. Tobin's face became wrought with confusion. "Is the entire camp up?" he asked, concerned, while standing up. Erebus, now miles shorter than Tobin, awaited his trade for information. Having no real time to share useless knowledge with the Bookie, he cut off a few buttons from his shirt, handing them down. "Yes, most everyone is up," he offered, anxiety in his voice. Tobin managed to find his coat of fur in the dark, slipping it on over his shirt. As Erebus guided him outside into the goblin camp, his skin prickled as if a cold hand had stroked the back of his neck. Looking around alertly, he saw goblins taking down their tents, bags already packed. He whispered a curse for his ears only.

"Is there a reason no one came to me sooner?" he demanded, but his goblin friend was gone, and he spoke to the wind alone.

Quickly weaving through the camp, which compromised of nearly 30 tents and 90 goblins, Tobin searched for his recently acquainted friend Mourry. The goblin Tracker had aided him countless times in travel, for a trade of coarse. His eagerness to help Tobin in deciding where their travels would be best, and shielding them from foreign dangers warmed Tobin's heart.

"Tobin!" called a short goblin, only a foot tall. His skin was a darker tone of Tobin's own. Mourry neared him, expression weary as he spoke. "I'm sorry, there was no time to get you first and then warn the camp. Has master Erebus told you of what's happened?" His voice was shaky, ridden with fear. It was unusual for Tobin to observe such an emotion from his friend. Kneeling down he nodded, "Yes. I sense there is something more than just rabid bears posing a threat. Have the Watchers and Charmers retreated from the outposts?" The goblin ushered for him to follow, his short legs moving rapidly to keep up a fast pace.

"Yes. From what we could understand from Belnan, the bears mind was clouded. 'Dark and damp' he had said. What do you think this means?" Tobin continued to follow the goblin as he led him to the herber's tent. The moon lit their path, casting long eerie shadows from the framework of half demolished tents. Tobin felt another sense of cold at the back of his neck. "I'm not sure, I've never encountered such a thing, not even in the Old Realm," he began. Wiping the back of his neck to remove the sickening dampness, he thought. _Only magic users could cloud the mind of an animal so. Goblin's magic would not have that effect...but sorcerer's would. _His stomach dropped in a spurt of realization. If sorcerers were here, were barbarians? It was known that many barbarian sorcerers still existed in the old realm, at least undercover.

"Mourry," Tobin managed to say under the nausea from his tense nerves. "There is dark magic afoot. Goblin magic may be strong, but it is too different to know for sure if it can protect us." He cut off three buttons from his shirt before slipping his small folding knife back into his pocket. "Tell the Stoners to create a small, hardly noticeable blockade between the bears and us. Then gather the goblins when they've packed and begin heading off to the north. Out next destination lies three days ahead, you said so, correct?" Mourry nodded, taking the buttons and waiting further commands. "Also inform them I will reimburse their actions later if they wish. I'm going to get closer to investigate before we leave." With that, Tobin stepped aside back to his tent. As time stretched while he packed some of his things, he felt an increasingly sick presence encroaching on the camp. After ripping his tent down in haste, and tying his items into a rough ball inside the rolled tent, he rushed to the camp perimeters.

After close to a minute of steady paced shuffling, Tobin knew he wouldn't be capable of walking further without being seen. A pack of rabid bears chasing him into the middle of the night through a sparse sapling forest wasn't exactly preferable. So, crouching and waiting for the bears to show, he calmed his nerves, slowed his breath, covered himself heavily in mud, and made no sound. For a few minutes he contemplated shifting a few yards to the north to see if the bears had retreated, but cracking twigs and grunting black masses soon made their way into his vision. He froze, they were only 10 yards or so off, just enough for them to catch his scent from upwind. If they smelled him, they didn't seem to show it, for they mulled around growling with jaws snapping as they had been seen doing before. Soon, he could smell them. They smelled rotten, like fruit or meat long past it's expiration time. As they crept closer and closer, Tobin saw their flesh was carious and decomposing. Though he also observed their eyes were black as night without stars or a moon, they seemed blind, moving as if something from afar controlled them. From their back, tufts of fur slid down, and at once they landed, they emitted black smoke, which Tobin saw was from the ground burning. The earth below their footsteps was decimated and burnt.

Just about to jump from his skin when one of the horde inched within a few yards of him, Tobin stilled as they all stood on their hind legs sniffing the air in unison. The pause was enough to stop his heart, but when they dropped down once more and galloped to the southwest where his camp had been, he could breath again. Once he saw the source of the bears corruption, he would backtrack to make certain no goblins were left behind, though he was sure that none were.

On cue, a tall cloaked figure glided over the brush and twig covered ground. Just like the bears, there was one at first, then an entire swarm. Only a single face revealed itself under the moonlight, confirming Tobin's suspicions that they were, in fact, humans; though he barely considered barbarians humans. It was a woman, her nose crooked, but her cheeks smooth and clean. Her eyes were white, indicating she was using the sorcerers spell of second sight, one which clouded her own, and allowed her to sue the bears as guides. Under normal circumstances, Tobin though it was impossible for such dark magic users to taint beasts such as bears and the like, for normally they were only able to inhabit humans, or demons. Otherworld must allow varying laws of magic to apply. Crouching away silently, he doubled back to the camp before retreating for good.

"--I could find them following the trail they left. It was just enough for me to track by sight, not the bears," Tobin explained. Encircling a round table were different expedition and army goblin members. On the opposite side sat Makenna, her arms folded, and her eyes now wrought with worry. Tobin could see her lips were hard pressed in her contemplation, his inner worry paralleling her outward expression. She shifted in her seat, still thinking. Noticing how now she seemed more apt to consider all the factors of the situation before speaking, Tobin smiled slightly; it was a far cry from her nervous chatter back in the Old Realm. Not that is was useless babble, but she had matured beyond her uncertainty as leader in his absence.

"First I will say this," she began, her voice steady and calm, though her clenched white knuckles deceived her disguise. "If I know my goblins well, then they will not want to sit here, just building up defenses while the threat of attack looms. We know hardly anything of our enemy besides that they are dangerous." Goblins commanders nodded agreeing. "So, I propose that we put together and army to be sent out to assess our enemy further. It would be my duty to join of coarse, and if Lord Tobin doesn't protest, I suggest he comes as well. The knowledge him and the expedition have gained will be useful, ensuring our safety and swiftness in travel." Before she could continue, Miggy stood on his tall chair, arms wide and expression rebellious. "No, I can go in your place, Gen'ral. It is not wise for our leader to leave the newly constructed city-" Makenna cut him off. "I say this respectfully Miggy. Maybe I do speak unwisely, but I think as a leader I should know the land around us. I would put you in charge of the cities affairs, and am certain every citizen will cooperate with your decision in my absence." she added, her expression now matching his in protest. Sitting down, Miggy grumbled, saying a discontent under his breath while frowning deeply.

"Before we take any action, Commander Binmal, inform the expedition members that they may choose to stay or go," she said, handing him a pine cone from her pocket. The Flincher nodded, taking it gratefully and hopping off his chair in haste. "Master Erebus, please, the knowledge you have gathered is imperative for us to chart. During our travels will you scribe it? I offer you information on the city's affairs in return." Erebus nodded, eye twinkling at the prospect of an exchange. "Gladly, of coarse."

Tobin sat up, so blown away by her decisive action that he nearly forgot to finish his briefing. "Makenna, I have one bit more to share," he leaned forward onto the table, goblins eyes turning to him one again. "On my way back to the camp, I noticed a peculiar puddle of what seemed to be water. It hadn't rained for many days, so it must have been either unnatural, or an overflow from and underground spring. Regardless," His brows furrowed in confusion. "-it was shining. It could have been the moonlight, but when I neared it, it shown brighter," he finished. His heart clenched, he wasn't telling the complete truth; he neglected to mention how he thought he saw the pale face of a man in white peering back at him. It was a face that had haunted his dreams since.

Makenna nodded, thinking again. Finally standing, a sign that the gathering had come to a conclusion, she bid the goblins and Tobin farewell before retreating to her battlements to continue planning. They had more perils to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Any suggestions? Comments? Reviews are greatly appreciated, however short, or critical. Keep in mind that although I can see how many hits I've had, it doesn't do much to encourage me!**

**Thank you Frogster for the helpful review, and informing me that Hilari Bell is signed on for two more books in this series. I can't wait!**

**Sorry this chapter is short. School has been overwhelming, so I only get time to write in the mornings. .;**

**As usual, I do not own, and have not developed these characters. Hilari Bell has. **

Chapter 3:

The Hedgewitch:

Mekanna shuffled through drawers of leaf pressed papers messily, eyes scanning each sheet's title carefully in search. "Gotcha!" she exclaimed washed with relief. Absorbed in glancing over the inventory of her food and weapon stores, she missed the shuffling of human footsteps nearing the archive doorway. "Knock Knock," Tobin smiled when Makenna jumped in surprise. Turning while shutting the paper away back in it's place, she let out a long sigh. "Sorry, I have a lot to do before I can even consider putting together supplies for the army," Tobin shrugged vicariously, tracing a hand along a carved oaken table, crude shapes of goblins dancing along it's sides.

"Miggy told me you're too worked up about this," he ventured. Seeing her gaze remained even, he relaxed. "I know," she stated simply. "But I have to make sure there's been proper tallying of the harvest items, as well as enough pre-chopped wood to last the winter. That's not even including the fact that we've got to prepare for sorcerers-" "He also said that he'd take care of the city affairs," Tobin interrupted quickly, sensing she could continue on for hours. Gazing at him, an eyebrow up in disbelief, she laughed. "Miggy already has too much else to be concerned with," Tobin smiled genuinely, knowing she thought it was too good to be true. "He's going to hand those tasks down to Binmal, who is more then capable," he finished sending a sharp glare at her gestured protest. She brought her hand down and folded her arms. Her lips were almost frowning exempting the suppressed grin on one corner. "It's time you learn to trust them, Makenna. You've no idea how much I've depended on Mourry, bless his crooked heart," he offered, watching as her glare softened. "Aye, but it's hard," dropping her gaze from his, she thought of her past. It would be very hard for her to learn to depend on her friends fully, especially after being deceived by those she trusted in her childhood.

For a moment her statement rested, both deep in silent contemplation. Soon, struck by a something from his thoughts, Tobin smiled mischievously. "So, what more have you learned from Master Lazur's books while I've been gone?" Makenna's face surged with color. Turning away and reopening the drawers, she spoke quietly. "I haven't read any more of them," "What?" Tobin thought he misheard. She faced him squarely once more, frowning. "Since we set the warding stones, and stone of sanctuary, I haven't continued studying. There's been too many city matters to deal with. More importantly, Otherworld hasn't improved the potency of my skills," she gripped her hands together tightly under his dissatisfied gaze. "I've already read most of them anyway, in fact memorized most of them. I just haven't practiced." "Did you ever think that the occasion might rise where the goblins may need your magic to save them? The portal opening should be a reminder to you of what perils your magic may over-"

Makenna was awe struck by his accusation. Color seeping into her face in frustration, she inched towards him with her finger pointed. "Don't you ever say that I would jeopardize their safety. It's real easy to talk about practicing magic when you've no idea what practicing it means, lordling. Just because I haven't used the priests runes don't mean I haven't used my own proven spells to protect my goblins." With that, she snatched the inventory papers from the drawer, and waltzed out of the archives. Left in her wake was an ashamed Tobin, whose head hung low. He hadn't anticipated her to interpret is statement so."Makenna, wait," he called, turning around only to greet an empty burrow hallway.

* * *

The morning was calm,with winds blowing occasional breezes of cool air through the sapling forest. As the goblin band trudged through the recently muddied ground, they let out mumbling groans; their pace seeming to slow with each step. Makenna walked along with her goblins, taking care to keep the well informed Mourry and Tobin at her sides as guides. Their knowledge of the surrounding land would allow them to follow the fastest routes towards their enemy, though that day their enemy seemed eons away.

The day prior to their leave she wrapped up the city affairs with the help of Miggy, who was more then delighted to rid his General of her stresses. Once rations for the army were packed on the mountain rams they used as item transportation, the army had set out. Just after the first kiss of sun hit the mountainside, Makenna found herself yawning as she passed the hoards of goblins bidding the group goodbye.

Now, her current thoughts were transfixed on her magic. Although she knew Tobin meant no harm in his curiosity, she had recently come to the depressing conclusion that her skills would never improve. She figured the fact that she had opened a portal at The Wall was merely luck mixed with the leftover remnants of priests' magic. Regardless of that, she shamefully admitted her desire to be skilled like her mother, who had worked runes so effortlessly is seemed normal.

"Gen'ral," broke a voice, tearing her from her thoughts. Makenna looked around to see Mourry at her side. "Yes?" she asked. He pointed ahead of them. Following his direction, she saw a muck filled swamp ahead. Even in the colder weather the murky waters were heavy with dirt and clay; they had to find a way around it. "We encountered this on our way back. The best path is to head north around it. Doing that itself should take the rest of the day," he finished, frowning. She nodded, ushering the goblins behind her to start turning before they hit the seeping mud banks of the bog.

"Mourry, just where do you think the bandits have traveled to? If they were on the move months ago, they could be ages away," she began thinking aloud. The goblin nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, that's true, but you can bet they'll have left a trail that'll be hard to ignore." She frowned. "A trail of rotten and destroyed land..." she started, suddenly stopping and turning to face the tracker. "I know you'll catch their trail before we can visually see it, but would the Finders have a wider range at sensing it than yours? That is, if they looked for plants that were dying?" she questioned. The Tracker looked at her with a gaping expression of realization. "Why, I can't believe I'd never though of that," he spoke proudly gazing up at her. "I'll inform the Finders we have with us immediately," finishing, he held up his hand, which she placed a button in accordingly.

After the band of goblins and to humans found their way around the perilous swamp, they set camp. Tents of thick canvas made by crafty weavers protected the travelers as the clouds that had threatened rain all day finally started to sprinkle. Though the autumn was still early, the night brought cold chills, so much that while Makenna meandered through the camp paths, goblins encircled fire after fire outside each small tent trying to keep warm. From a distance she saw her own tent placed between Mourry's and Tobin's. Although she had protested that the three of them make a triangle with their tents around the camp, they had stubbornly refused to allow any goblin or human but themselves to protect her.

Exiting her tent was a confused looking Master Erebus. The old goblin caught Makenna's eye immediately, waving his wrinkled hand at her in greeting. "I believe we have an exchange to make?" he spouted, attempting to mask the eagerness in his voice. "Aye. I take it you were in my tent looking for me?" she quizzed him curiously. "Yes, Mistress. Now," he began, pulling back the tent flap once more before disappearing. Following him, Makenna smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you Reviewers! **

**I've been very busy lately, with my brother's wedding and all, (Yay, I have two sister-in-laws now! .,) but now that it's done, my only concerns this month are party planning and school, w00t!**

**Enjoy!  
**

Chap 4:

The Hedgewitch:

"We have much to discuss. You brought up my scribing at the meeting, so I would very much appreciate it if you initiated our chat," Master Erebus began, suddenly sounding somber. Perching himself on Makenna's item chest, he pulled out a small book with quilled markings of the original goblin language. Although Makenna could not speak it, she recognized the symbols of warding and knowledge from Erebus' library collection back in the Old Realm. The old goblin watched her patiently inspecting until patience faded, and he then cleared his throat to gain her attention once more.

"For the first few days you were gone, the city affairs carried on as normal. Ah, how in depth do you want me to go?" she asked after starting. Erebus quietly thought before speaking, "Not intricately in depth. If I think something is striking, I ask for details." She adjusted her seat in her bed cot. "As I said, affairs continued on as usual. Aye, there were a few problems with housing arrangements and building projects, but for the most part after that, it was calm." She watched the goblin scribe rapidly, feathered charcoal scratching away at pressed leaf paper. One finished, he looked up and smiled, showing his enjoyment of the Bookies' favorite kind of knowledge; useless information. "The next month was harder. June brought oddly cold weather, and it postponed some of our late planting. A few goblins in the north parts of the mountain experienced a light frost, which damaged some of the newly grown plants." Makenna recalled how Miggy and her old goblins friends had contemplated whether they chose the right spot for a city. For days her nerves frayed while she hid herself in the armaments cave, though in the end she decided to stay.

"After it started to get warmer, and plants prospered fully, the goblins brought me news of foreign creatures nearing the city outposts." "Really?" the Bookie frowned, leaning forward and scribing even faster. "I didn't make any moves of attack until I could see for myself if they were harmful. They were centaurs, horse creatures with the torso of a human. They sent out a messenger, who had approached us cautiously. He presented me with paper in a foreign language, and spoke in a foreign tongue, and knowing we didn't understand, traveled back and returned, this time with a branch of a plant I'd never known existed. On it were round black fruits, about the size of an acorn, it's leaves grew opposite one another, and the branch was gnarled," she continued. The goblin's head shot up, "An olive branch?" He asked. The Hedgewicth nodded. "I'd no idea what it was until a young Bookie told me. After that, we dropped our weapons and told him we wanted to problems." Just as she finished her sentence, and tap on the tent flap sounded.

"Come in," Makenna offered, watching as a slightly damp Tobin stepped foot through the threshold. He shook his boots out a bit before removing them and setting the on the edge of her thinly weaved rugged."I assumed your going over what happened in the expeditions absence?" He asked while sitting down. Nodding, Makenna gestured towards Erebus. She felt her stomach knot, feeling guilty that she had yelled at him in the days prior. Since then, she had barely spoken two words to him, and was ashamed at her childish actions.

"You can catch up by reading what Erebus records later," Erebus smiled at the ex-knight, and then faced Makenna once more, prepared to finish his writing. "Let's see," she began, trying to recall where she left off. "The messenger returned to his clan, who were situated about a mile away to the south from our outpost. The next day, he came back with an ambassador who spoke the Old Realm's language. He had said he had learned it from other humans that had entered Otherworld, though he called Otherworld Itola. After that he brought a treaty stating that we would remain friendly with one another-" Makenna explained. Tobin started to gape as she explained about the truce, straightening up and speaking in opposition. "They could have told you that to make you think the treaty was that of friendly terms for all we know-" Makenna calmly silenced him, sitting tall, reassuring herself of her authority. "Your concern is needed Tobin. Aye, that's why I want you to take part in our social affairs. But the treaty was in our language. I read it word for word and even subjugated the ambassador to a truth spell, so you don't have to worry. " He looked slightly taken aback, but his expression gave way to a relaxed acceptance. "Sorry," the lord apologized. Makenna grinned, finally relieved. "Don't say sorry to me lordling, I don't need it. You're smart enough to know you are in a position to protest my decisions." He nodded calmly, sullen expression retreating.

"Anyway, the centaurs disappeared not to be seen again. Master Erebus, after that, nothing happened. The plants grew, and city affairs continued. The only changes made were the community banquets and the formation of the rest of the outposts." With that, Makenna sat deep into her cot, fatigue pulling persistently at the back of her eyelids. Tobin stood, stretching, and Master Erebus finished his scribing while Makenna waited.

"It seems we have no time tonight for my exchange," the goblin spoke in a hoarse unused voice. Sitting up with his book in hand, he hopped from the chest cautiously, approaching Makenna and handing her something from his pocket. She took it, examining it in the darkly lit tent to see it was a copper coin of some sort. "I'll give you that until we find another night in which to discuss my findings," he explained, bowing to his mistress and bidding Tobin goodbye.

"What is it?" Tobin asked, taking a seat next to Makenna on her cot. Stiffening at his proximity, she felt fresh nervousness find it's way into her chest. "It's a copper coin, recognize it from Old Realm?" She asked, handing it to him. He held it up in front of his face, turning it to face the light until it glowed like a pool of fire. "It's copper coated, see the indentations there? Thats iron underneath. It's defiantly a coin from before the Hierarchy's time. They used solid bronze," he explained, handing the coin back to her. She met his gaze smiling until he eyes remained on hers for longer than a single glance should last. Hoping the light would hide her awkward blush, she stood and set the coin in her item chest, facing away from him.

"Listen, I'm sorry about suggesting you didn't care about your goblins, Makenna." he spoke softly, his voice filled with a mixture of emotions. "It's fine, I don't know what got into me to act like that," finally being able to offer what she thought about herself, she felt at ease. "I know very well I should practice magic, and I have. Just not the priests, for reasons you can guess." Tobin looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, gaping in realization. "Of coarse you wouldn't want to use his magic, after what the Cloister has done to you and yours," He stood, scratching his head. Smiling, Makenna said good night and watched him leave. The rest of the night she spent sleeping.

* * *

The Knight:

Tobin woke in his tent during the early morning preceding dawn. Sitting up groggily, having plenty of time to pack well before others were up, he thought aimlessly, letting his mind wander while he woke completely from his dreams. He recalled the day prior, how the group had traveled at a slow pace, but managed to get to a far distance from their city. He also recalled his evening, first listening to Makenna talk, and then mustering the courage to apologize to her about her accusations in the city archives.

Tobin thought of her more; how much he was truly sorry for making her self conscious of her magic; how close he had sat to her, praying to St. Spiratu she couldn't see his hand shaking as he held the bronze coin. Suddenly wiping his thoughts, he stood, stretching his sides and yawning. "Don't think," he whispered to himself. Thinking makes proximity harder to bear.

Being away on his travels, far from Makenna, his mind had cleared. He was able to consider everything that had happened to him in perspective, especially his abandoning of the Old realm. At first he had regretted leaving his brother, especially when the reason he left was to escape knightly duties, and attend to his hopes for a simpler life; both of which he was unable to do presently. However, the more he spent time thinking about how he'd come to love the goblins, and how he'd come to know Makenna, the more he felt at home. As time dragged on while he was away, he'd found a single soul to confide in; his goblin friend Mourry. The Tracker knew all of Tobin's feelings, and possibly understood even more about what they meant than Tobin did. Without him, Tobin could have been driven insane with confusion and loneliness.

Shaking his head, he dressed himself, slipping on a linen shirt, and wool tunic, with burnt bark colored breaches. Once his boots were on, he packed his things, tying the few things he had into neat bundles, and setting them outside his tent as he tore it down. Soon Mourry was up, waving to Tobin as he undid his own tent structure. After an hour or so, Tobin begun to catch the rustling and mumbling of waking goblins as they prepared for the day. A few ventured outside their tents in search of the creek that had led to the seemingly stagnant marsh pond, but most tore their tents down just as Tobin had. The last person to get up was the hedgewitch, but rightfully so. Her tent protected scrolls of her spells, treasures for potential trades, records of supplies, and extra materials for a traveler's use; all of which she packed and unpacked herself from the unreliable mountain rams. It took many a lost bundles of goods to teach The Expedition that the rams could jump over any pen they made, chew through any rope they tied, and would turn on the goblins if frightened by the night noises; so they simply carried their goods with them where ever they slept.

Makenna was outside her tent, pacing back and forth from the inside threshold to the outside, transferring bags and bunches of items she was deemed to guard. Her long hair was braided that day for practicality's sake, and she wore more than she had the day prior; a sign she knew colder weather would be upon them. She tore down her tent and folded it up just like the rest. Soon the Makers were out saddling the rams with their carefully crafted gear and Charmers calmed the steeds into staying still while the army mounted them. Once everyone was packed and prepared, they continued their journey, first walking, and then riding when the ground became stiffer.

"Lovely mornin', lovely muck," Mourry exclaimed sarcastically, breathing deep the rotten musk scents of the bog area. Tobin laughed, "Not half as lovely as your wife!" Jabbing Tobin with his walking stick, Mourry narrowed his eyes cackling away. In front of them Makenna turned, curious about their laughter, and sent them a look of confusion. As she swiveled back to keep her eyes on the forest in front of her mount, Tobin caught a smile creeping on her lips. Mourry unexpectedly poked his side painfully again, catching Tobin off guard. "Oof!" he grunted. About to finally poke his friend back, he stopped when he caught the distance sound of dull marching.

"Makenna!" he called, but she was stock still before he was. Dismounting, she brought her steed back for Mourry to hold. "Goblins!" she called, clearing the ground of the few dead leaves that had fallen from the turning trees. "We have company! Trackers, if you have been with the expedition, I want you to search the surrounding area for potential sorcerers. Finders, search for unnaturally rotten or decaying foliage. Watchers, surround the group and keep an eye on our perimeters," she called, moving towards Tobin and Mourry once more, her expression taut, she spoke. "I'm going to draw a rune of warding and then step outside the shield to investigate, I want Tobin to stay here and Mourry to come-" "With all due respect, I'd prefer to come with you," Tobin spouted, refusing to be left behind if the enemy was ahead. Makenna stared at him seriously for a single moment of thought before nodding. Mourry nodded as well, brining his steed back to the other goblins that were mounted, and yelling commands of preparation.

Meanwhile, Makenna drew a circle, penciling in runes in each of the four directions, stepping on the circle's edge with her foot. Tobin waited for her to finish, seeing her eyes flutter shut while she whispered the chant of the protection spell. Suddenly, a faint purple glow appeared first on the ground around the goblins, and then above them in a half sphere shape; the spell was much stronger than it had been when she first practiced it in the city. After bringing her mount back to her, Tobin watched the empty forest around them. Some trees were much older, but most seemed only a few decades old; making it easy to see something at a distance. Peering around as they rode further and further from the shielded goblins towards the potential threat, Tobin heard the beat of approaching horses. Makenna gasped suddenly, watching something nearing them from the east. Tobin turned quickly to see just what approached them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews! **

**To address some of your questions, yes, I will try and continue the split point of view for the rest of the story, although not always in each chapter together. I think it's important to give both Makenna and Tobin's perspective at certain points. **

**As always, this story is Hilari Bell's, not mine.**

Chap 5:

The Knight:

Makenna gasped, eyes transfixing onto a single figure to Tobin's right. Turning swiftly enough to catch the creature before it was upon them, Tobin was surprised to see a centaur. The horse-man was massive, towering feet above Tobin's height, with rugged muscles across his bare chest. As his gallop slowed, he eyed Tobin suspiciously for a moment before turning to Makenna, who was now calmly awaiting his greeting. In that moment, she illustrated all the characteristics of a true leader; regality, respect, and power.

"General Makenna, leader of the Goblins," he spoke in a melodic accent, his words spilling over like honey. Stifling a laugh procured from his calling Makenna 'general', Tobin observed the centaur closely. "Zvonimir, Ambassador of the centaur, what brings you here?" she replied. The centaur's cool blue eyes lit up at her recognition of his name and he stepped forward bowing slightly while gazing around once more. "My clan, the Aggrippians, have been attacked by humans. I've been sent from the standing army to seek the fulfillment of our terms of alliance." With his last statement, Tobin stepped forward between the centaur and Makenna. "How do we know that you haven't been possessed by sorcerers or bribed by these humans to take Makenna and bring her back to your people?" Tobin's eyes flashed in challenge at the creature. Zvonimir stepped back, giving them space.

"If I wished that I would have done so by now. You may perform whatever spell you find necessary on me, Hedgewitch, just make haste." Zvonimir grimaced. Tobin saw he did not like admitting himself to spell experiments, and his reaction was enough to reassure them of his intention. "I will not need to perform spells on you Zvonimir. I know centaurs are extremely difficult to overpower, as my Charmers have told me so." Makenna did not rip her gaze from him, her eyes steady and serene. "Let me return to this spot with our army, and you may take us to yours," aside, she spoke to Tobin. "Please wait with him."

As Tobin waited, the centaur observed him carefully. "You've more the scent of Itola then she. How long have you been here?" The man asked curious; his tone filled with neither approval nor mockery. Meeting his blazing blue eyed gaze evenly, Tobin shrugged. "It feels like it's been a year, but nothing has changed to show us a yearly progression besides the plants and weather." The centaur man furrowed his dark eyebrows, face filled with uncertainty. "Changes will come in time. How many years young are you?" Tobin thought hard a moment, "Does this really matter when your people are under attack?" Zvonimir smiled for the first time since he had arrived, his stress filled expression melting for a fleeting moment before returning to its normal sternness. "There is nothing we can do until your general returns. Besides that, I'd like to know how young the people are that I'm letting aid my home country." "Twenty one-" he started, but stopped short of his following statement when the centaur raised an eyebrow. "You're not even a quarter my age," he stated. Cautiously, fighting the sinking feeling in his stomach, Tobin asked the centaur how old he was. Calmly, and casually, the creature replied, "If you count how many years I've been here, I'll have lived to be 403 years."

Tobin shook his head, inspecting the man's figure once more, completely sure he was lying. "That's impossible. Unless centaur are known for not showing age, you look maybe a few years my elder," He thought hard; knowing that centaurs did not age differently, but considered his own age in Otherworld. His hair, normally ragged after a year away from the barber, was hardly longer. He'd noticed Makenna's as well, which would have been even longer than it currently fell.

Zvonimir turned away, towards where Makenna returned from. Behind her marched rams filled with three goblins at a time, along with loads of gear. She walked her own ram, speaking with Mourry who looked worried as well as excited, his eyes dancing brightly. "I've more questions for you, Ambassador." Tobin stated tartly. The centaur nodded respectfully, a mild smile creeping into his expression. "As I do for you." he remarked quietly enough for just them to hear. In a moments time, his face leveled and he bowed to Makenna once more. "If you are prepared, I will lead the way." Makenna nodded, handing Tobin's mount to him, and mounted her ram. After sitting up, she swept her long braid off her shoulder onto her back, and gripped the reins tight. "Let's move."

* * *

The Hedgewitch:

"Hush already, won't you?" Makenna demanded her human friend ceased his complaining of their travel with the Centaur completely. She stood aside the Aggripian's standing army Commanding Officer Marz, a white furred and green eyed man with a prickly personality and short temper. The centaur man spoke little of their human language, and so the ambassador stayed as a translator. During the past week of travel, the goblins had learned to stick close to the centaur's heels, lest they be left behind. With the help of the ambassador, they managed to understand the plans of the centaur in retaliating against the sorcerers and humans invaders. Since Zvonimir had been at Makenna's side, telling only her of what Marz plotted, Tobin had kept up complaints of being left in the dark.

"I'll stop when you tell me what these creatures intend to do!" he whispered hoarsely, eying the Zvonimir as the ambassador turned to see why Makenna voiced her irritation. They rode like wind on their rams, goblins mingling with Centaur as they galloped across the open plains that lain leagues south of the goblin city. The crisp fall air was sharp against Makenna's face, but she enjoyed it's cooling effects on her heating temper. "Zvonimir says that Marz has been tracking the barbarians for the past few days. If you haven't noticed, the trees surrounding this meadow are rotten, a sign the sorcerers have been here." she offered shortly, taking her reigns and galloping ahead to the side of Marz. Zvonimir followed her, leaving a furious Tobin alone behind with Mourry. For a second Makenna heard the ex-knight and the Tracker converse, but ignored it.

"Marz," she called, watching as the commander briefly took his eyes off where he ran to acknowledge her. "From what you've told me, when we find the sorcerers, you plan to attack with brute force. If you enter close range combat, there's a chance your kinsman'll be plagued, dying a painfully slow death. May I offer you an alternative strategy?" As Zvonimir translated, the commander glared at Makenna briefly, his face filled with exhaustion and anxiety. "Selz don'mir rann kiel sal bajar" Marz spoke fluidly, in a smooth tone that deceived his demeanor. "He says he doesn't think that will work," Zvonimir translated. Makenna suppressed her frown and un-furrowed her brow. Watching the meadow pass below their feet she thought. The only way a stranger would accept her advice is if she had a chance to prove her worth. Turning back calmly she remained passive. "Ambassador, please tell him that under our alliance, I have equal say in battle plans that concern both our nations. It was Marz himself wanted to involve us, and so this article applies." After naming the article, Makenna turned to eye Tobin and Mourry, who had grown quiet. Turning under the late afternoon sun, she saw their eyes filled the brim with curiosity.

Makenna tried to hide her smile, but failed, and instead locked her eyes on the ground to gain composure once more. Marz, after listening to Zvonimir's translation, grumbled loudly. Speaking sternly, he surprised her by smiling after Zvonimir translated. "Marz says you are right, and that he will consider your plan option only because you were witty enough to remember that article." After she paused to observe if Marz was serious, the commander spoke up. "You got me." he offered slowly, his velvet voice slurring the words. The hedgewitch smiled, bursting into laughter for the first time since she had met the commander. "You-, thank you." As the commander waited to hear her plan, Tobin rode up to see what the fuss was over.

"My option is simple. First I will observe the sorcerers from afar with my sight spell, and then I will use my Stoners and Flamers to attack at a distance." As she explained, and Zvonimir translated, the far edge of the meadow came into sight. The trees on the far end appeared lush and green, unlike the dying ones that flanked the sides of the plain. Their travel slowed, centaur generals shouting commands for the army to halt while they unloaded their supplies."Felz sal danar lei Flambars den Bouldens desde felz sit'ran" Zvonimir spoke, waiting for Marz's response. Marz eyed her, his expressing filled with uncertainty, but he eventually nodded. "Palt, Selz aprivar." Makenna's heart raced, as Zvonimir told her that the commander approved, she readied herself, calling forth memories of the water sight spell her mother had taught her at a young age. While she had hardly been able to do it in her childhood, her skills had become slightly stronger, though not by much; they were still unreliable.

Regardless, as she walked her ram back towards the goblins as the army settled camp, her spirits were high. Tobin, who rode at her side, demanded he keep watch while she drew her runes. Nodding, Makenna was overwhelmed with a sudden sense of dread. Peering up at the twilight sky, she watched birds pass overhead cawing and squawking in their communication. "Makenna," Zvonimir called from down the path between the rows of tents behind her. He approached, calmly aware of the dozens of goblin eyes following him.  
"Marz wishes you to dine in the commanders tent for this evening. Your human friend may join him and the other Centaur generals present." He bowed low, frowning and turning quickly without a word of explanation, leaving Tobin and her turning to each other in wonder.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, so this chapter is just a filler, and not very informative. It's been hard to write when I'm spending hours on something that's going to be read regularly by three people. Now, I truly appreciate my readers, however few, but with my life and school right now, unless I magically adopt a dozen more readers, with reviews, etc, then I'm going to write this story at a slower pace. I will do my best to update at least once or twice a month, and because so I will try and make the chapters a bit longer. **

**I do not own this story or its characters, Hilari Bell does. **

The Hedgwitch:

Makenna stood stock still, dumbfounded by what Zvonimir had informed them of before he left Tobin and her. "Did he say what I think he just said?" she questioned Tobin, who was standing next to her equally confused. "It seems so. I guess we should clean up quickly," he muttered, scratching his head. Nodding, Makenna agreed. A few moments later they were both in their respective tents using a water basin to wash their faces of the grime that had collected and gone uncleaned during their marsh travel. Makenna finished early, having time to brush out her long rich brown hair. Braiding it, she considered how wild she had let it float free before; not having known how convenient it was to have braided and out of the way.

Outside her tent, which Mourry and her goblins friends had set up while she was occupied with other affairs, Makenna eased her nerves by kicking the grass ground with her leather boots. Soon Tobin was out from his tent, looking refreshed, but still needing a shave. Smiling to herself, Makenna laughed as his face morphed into that of a confused self conscious child. He sent her an evil glare before beckoning them to walk the path leading up to the Centaur tents near the meadows edge.

"What do you think they want to discuss?" He asked finally. Shaking her head, Makenna shrugged. "I've no idea. Marz agreed to let me take care of the sorcerers, so maybe be wishes to include me in another moves he 's ganna make," she spilled her thoughts, still uncertain of why the natives of Otherworld would wish their presence at an evening meal. "Maybe it's just a nice gesture?" Tobin posed, glancing at her as they walked. "It could be, but whose to say their customs are the same as ours?" Sighing, she gave up her curiosity. They would be there soon enough to find out themselves.

The air was energized, sounds of clanking dishes of glass and pewter rang clear through the voices of gruff and smooth centaur voices alike. Tobin and Makenna sat patiently awaiting for the curios centaur commander to acknowledge them. His thunderous laughter bellowed throughout the silken fabric tent, easily recognizable to Makenna. Pushing irritation aside, she leaned sideways to Tobin, "Do you think they've lost their eye sight?" she asked. Tobin snickered, elbowing her lightly. "I don't think they like it if I laugh at them, Makenna," he began, watching cautiously as a centaur across the table eyed them in annoyance. After another minute of being ignored, Makenna sighed, looking around for Zvonimir to translate her message of departure to Marz. The ambassador was no where in sight.

Noticing conversation had quieted slightly, she took the chance to voice her farewell. "Well, it seems no one here speaks our common tongue, so we will be leaving," she stood to bow, just as a general from the far end of the table spoke up. "No, I speak." he offered, raising a hand so she could see him. "Would you care to translate for me?" she asked. The man nodded. "Please, tell Marz were thankful for the dinner invitation, but we've other matters to attend to. If he doesn't wish to discus anything of import-" Marz stood gradually from his seat, his floor mat by the side of the table was a rich purple, indicating his noble position. "No, you stay," he demanded in awkward common tongue. Makenna sighed aloud, indicating her annoyance. "I'll enjoy your company when we have plans to discuss. I have to prepare for my mission now." Marz watched her evenly as she left the tent. Behind, her human friend bowed apologetically and followed her closely. Turning to his general, he smiled.  
_(In Centaur)_ "I told you she was serious. The next time we invite her to dinner it will be to celebrate our success, not test her judgment," Marz sat back accordingly, smiling briefly before eating again. His general made an awkward face of disappointment and handed over a large amount of golden coins to his commander.

**Again, sorry for the short chapter. I will not be dropping this story, just updating less frequently. My updates will depend on hits and reviews. Thankyou all for reading!!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Aaah! Sorry for the long wait, I've been swamped with school and such. Let me know if you like or dislike the new point of view. If it's unsuccessful I'll take it out of future chapters. Here ya go!**

**These characters are not mine, they are Hilari Bell's.**

The Knight:

Tobin watched Makenna stomp her way out of the centaur generals tent into the chilled evening. Laughter behind him continuing just as it had when he entered, he questioned the seriousness of the centaur in their quest for revenge. However, while his thoughts barraged him, his real concern lay in Makenna's temper. She turned abruptly, braid flinging off her shoulder like a whip. "I don't think I'll ever understand what the point of that was," she sighed, walking impatiently while Tobin struggled to keep up.

"I don't know either. I'm sure when Zvonimir is here he can sort out this misconception." Tobin let his eyes wander as they rushed along the meadow floor to their tents. Goblins waved casually as they passed, a few smiling in amusement as they saw Makenna in her flustered irritation. Thinking to himself, Tobin wondered where the ambassador had gone missing to, for he usually seemed more than eager to help Makenna adjust to the centaur customs. He was respectful however, never sparking too much conversation around Makenna that didn't concern the sorcerers or the centaur's plans, but the more Tobin thought about it, the more he began to wonder why he didn't speak more. He had spent nearly a week with Makenna in sorting out the first terms of their alliance, added onto the past week they spent in travel; with all that, it would be easy to understand why Makenna and him were friends. Only, they didn't seem as anything but acquaintances.

Now watching the back of Makenna's head, falling behind, Tobin laughed. "I was wondering," Tobin began aloud, waiting for Makenna to slow her pace while he caught up. She turned to him, her brown eyes catching the fleeting light of the crescent moon like drops of sap. "Hmm?" He frowned, unsure of how he would word what he thought. "Well, where has the ambassador gone to? It seems when we needed him most, he just up and left," Tobin produced finally, hoping to procure answers from Makenna without revealing his real curiosity. The look she gave him was almost as cold as the wind that began to blow at their backs.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, voice not irritated, but short. Tobin shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just saying it seems he doesn't make being an ambassador his first priority." Makenna inspected him curiously before turning her gaze ahead at their tents. Facing him calmly, she sighed. "I'm sure he has a good reason for not staying with us," she gave him finally, although her words did not spell out her confidence in the centaur. While he felt his shoulder sag as his mood deflated, he wished to mend the trouble he'd caused. "I didn't mean it like that, truly I just wondered where he was," Tobin sputtered. Makenna nodded, turning towards her tent. "You're not going to eat?" Tobin asked her. "No, I think it's best I get a decent sleep."

The Hedgewitch:

The early morning in the cleared meadow was marginally warmer than the frosty night prior. As Makenna stretched outside her tent, she inhaled deeply and expelled her heavy mood. To her side Mourry sat outside his tent, widdling away at a stick. Glancing up, he smiled crookedly. "Tough day ahead if I'm not mistaken," The goblin Tracker started, tone serious. "Aye, very tough day. Do you know where Nevnil, and Rosto are? I have to talk to them about recruiting some of their Stoners and Flamers. I need them for this mission as you know," Makenna gazed around, scanning each goblin head near her tent carefully. Mourry stood up, hopping off his bundle and tossing his stick aside. "Here, I'll show ye, they shouldn't be far."

The short goblin weaved through the chaotic tent rows, now bustling with busy goblins going about their chores for the day of no travel. However, the chores were not the only things on many of their minds. The news that Makenna was planning an attack was inescapable from eavesdropping goblins ears; sometimes she wondered if many of the little devils had a gift with their keen sense of hearing and wouldn't admit it. As she paraded towards Rosto and Nevnil's camp she couldn't help but observe that the gazes goblins sent her were either of complete worry, or complete obliviousness. Shrugging the matter off she contemplated how she would persuade the Flamers and Stoners to aid her.

"Here ye go Gen'ral. Morn, Nevnil, Rosto," the Tracker nodded his head towards the sitting goblins, whose slim hands reached towards a gorgeously roaring fire in their camp. "Mourry," they offered, eying Makenna quickly before gazing into the fire once more. "Gen'ral," Nevnil said finally. Makenna couldn't help but smile at their behavior. Both goblins were not from her home village; they arrived at the portal to Otherworld as refugees from the south. While she was acquainted with many goblins, it was nearly impossible for her to meet all of them formally.

She grasped Mourry's shoulder gently, and handed him a button from her shirt. "Nay, that's not needed, I offered to show ye out of my choice." Closing her hand, the Tracker smiled in his crooked way, and bowed to the goblins. "I'll see you later Gen'ral." As he left them alone, Makenna searched the goblins expression closely.

"I know I haven't formally introduced myself to you, but forgive me, I've a lot on my mind." Sitting onto the cold ground so she was at a the goblins sight level she warmed herself by the fire. "I know you're both skilled in fire and stone work; for you've helped many of the makers in the crafting of our weapons and buildings. I'd like to ask a favor of you today." As she began, they faced her calmly, expressions unchanged; they weren't cold hearted, just cautious. They knew what deception humans were capable of, and obviously did not trust their leader completely just yet. "What's in it for us?" Nevnil asked, his dark brown eyes open attentively. Rosto nodded agreeing. Holding their gaze, Makenna took out a few items from her pockets. She'd known at some point she'd need to make a trade with more than buttons or pine cones, so she'd saved up items from her travel in Otherworld gradually. In the morning light the green and red gems embedded in the rock she held seemed duller than when she had first scavenged them. During the first year of travel the goblins had settled in many places, one place in particular was over a fruitful natural mine of precious stones and gems south of the city. Tobin had been exploring with a group of stoner's who felt inclined to search the unique rock formations around the glen they set camp in. After discovering the mine, Makenna ordered goblins to pick at a lump some of them to save for the city's treasury; for trades like these.

"Master Erebus and some Stoners claim they are precious gems. I'd be willing to offer you both a some this size in exchange for you and your trainees cooperation." She handed them to rock, Nevnil could hardly hide his eagerness in examining the gems. The stoner flickered them into the fire light, aiming to see the clarity of the jewels. He looked up, astonished and bowed his head to her. "Aye, I'd be willing to accept this in exchange. Though I'm certain I've the better end of he bargain." Nevnil handed her the rock back, mean while Rosto shook his head. "I don't have any use for that." he admitted stubbornly. His gaze lingered on the other items hidden by Makenna's hand. She took one from her lap, holding it out. The rectangular box seemed uninteresting at first. "This is contraption Mourry discovered while tracking some caribou in the woodlands to the northeast of home." She explained as she flicked off a hinged cap. It clicked, revealing a wick of some sort sticking out. Rosto's interest flashed across his expression rapidly before dissipating. "What is it?" He wondered aloud. Makenna held the bronze container towards the bonfire. Soon, the small wick lit up, just smaller than a night candle, but large enough to provide a dim light. Rosto watched her movement wide eyed. "It's some sort of mini-torch. Mourry guessed it was left by humans from past, but it seems to be more sophisticated than the crude torches used long ago. This is what I'd offer you, Rosto. While a Flamer such as yourself has no real need, you'd always have a light on hand," She handed to him while he investigated the compartment, shaking it near his ear listening to the oil inside gurgle, and tracing a finger along it's engraved pattered edges. Finally sitting back, he grumbled. "You're a mighty decent temptress, Gen'ral." his voice was filled with annoyance.

Alarmed at his anger, she felt a sharp exasperation enter her chest. "I mean no insult, Rosto-"- "But I'll take it." he blinked, eyes twinkling ever so slightly. Makenna sighed, air visibly puffing out from her mouth. The cold was deepening even while the sun was up. "Thank you, both of you. Now here's what I ask..." Explaining her plan, the goblins listened intently, bundling up by the fireside closely.

The Ambassador:

Ambassador Zvonimir sat calmly by his Commader Marz side, listening to Makenna explain her plans more in depth to the centaur. Her regal appearance, even prominent in rugged leather and fur clothes, was hard to ignore; he sometimes wondered if why she wasn't a noblewoman in the Old Realm, for she carried herself collectedly. As she finished explaining how she'd recruited her Flamers and Stoners, Zvonimir translated rapidly, noticing Marz expression was hesitant, but pleased with her progress.

"Selz rann felz taner'a yiet'mn calcar. Je'de, desde gaul. Es felz di, lei sorcerers en gaultan." Marz bowed to her as he sat. Outside the late morning wind blew, a cold storm nearing their settlement. "He says you have a good plan, but to take caution. As you said, the sorcerers are dangerous." With that, Makenna's expression transformed from a serious tautness to a relaxed relief. "Thank you. Agrigar Marz" she spoke, smiling. Marz huffed in faux-irritation. "Too fast learner." he grumbled. Standing and bowing her leave, Makenna met both of the centaur with her deep honey brown eyes, "I will inform you when I'm prepared to take my leave." Leaving Zvonimir to translate, she exited the tent.

_(In Centaur) _"I'm very surprised indeed" Marz began, standing and walking calmly to the front of his small cherry wood desk. The sounds of his hooves were muffled on the ground rug situated to keep the cold out. "She seems so young, yet so acquainted with the necessities of war. Do you have any idea how long she's been at it?" Marz folded his arms, gazing outside through the small gap in the tent flap doorway. It had started to flurry slightly. "Her human companion says he's around twenty years in Old Realm time. Here that's hardly the lifespan of a fly." Zvonimir tightened his bear skin cloak as Marz grasped the tent flaps and pulled them closed completely. "She must be around that age. A girl that young should have no inkling of war. It seems the Old Realm is truly barbaric; if my daughter knew anything of war I'd be furious." Grunting, Marz eyed Zvonimir closely, his emerald eyes disarming, sensing Zvonimir become tense. "You know, you never did fully explain what you observed in their city during your stay," the commander gestured for them to sit on the ground to chat, Zvonimir sighed internally. "Well, their city is not as developed as ours, but then again they've only just arrived in Itola." "Go on, ambassador,"

"I followed her around on her daily affairs while drafting the alliance treaty for about a week. That was after Yen the messenger had already presented them with the peace branch and returned with me." He continued. Marz looked unsatisfied still, and so the ambassador continued on. "As for her leadership; she's very capable. She has close ties with her citizens, many admire her even though she is human. From what I gathered she is a skilled magic user, but rarely uses her talents beyond the direst of situations. She led them even in the Old Realm, though only a few hundred of the current goblins knew her from when the humans of her world threatened to destroy their existence. Most were refugees seeking her aid just as she opened a portal to here. As for the knight, he's not very friendly with me. I think he may love her, though I am not certain." Zvonimir felt his temperature rising as he admit facts he hadn't revealed to anyone but himself. "Enough about that. What about her personally?" Marz seemed bored by his generic answers, instead wanting to understand his ally and her culture more closely.

"She's a decent fighter, I've seen her battling more than one goblin at a time in duels. A good strategist-"- "Zvonimir, you're boring me." The commander grumbled. "Her, what about her life, her interests? I have to know about this, especially if we want to make our alliance stronger." Struggling to maintain his composure, Zvonimir stood. "Makenna is kind and gentle; though she tries to hide it by acting tough. She likes to read, learn, explore this land, whistle, and plant. Commander, I know these things, but I still lack knowledge of her past. It seems she is deeply troubled by something, for when I asked about it her gaze became distant and mournful." He blushed, feeling much younger than his years currently; and apparently his commander observed this changed in atmosphere.

"Much better. But ambassador, I warn you," He paused, emphasizing the seriousness of his statement. "Do not develop your relations beyond what is proper for a missionary such as yourself, and the leader of another clan. I'm sure you understand the importance of your profession. Thank you, that will be all for now." Dismissing him, Marz stood, and turned his back towards his underling. Zvonimir left defeated and ashamed; he wished Marz had never asked him about her.

By late afternoon a decent layer of snow coated the meadow. The trees, most still covered with leaves in shades of reds and yellows, weighed down, some starting to coat with ice as the temperature rose and fell. Zvonimir galloped through his fellow centaur's camp, chuckling at friends as they urged him to join them in their early sup in their vast dining tents. He declined most, wanting to clear his head of the heavy fatigue that plagued him since his conversation with Marz. The sky was a dirty white, still fairly light as the sun's rays shined from the horizon behind the foliage. From the distance in front of him, Zvonimir watched Tobin near. He came jogging steadily from the goblin camp area near the centaur's. His expression was solemn.

"Hello Ambassador," he greeted, breathing tiredly as he halted. Zvonimir bowed in greeting. As the man cast a glance over his shoulder towards where he'd come from, he spoke. "I've scouted the surrounding forest. It seems there are more sorcerers than expected. With them is an old man who I saw from my last confrontation with the fiends; he may be their leader. Mourry says the group has been traveling around the meadow for some time, almost as if they were thinking of settling here." As he spoke, the hairs on Zvonimir's arm rose; he sensed danger would soon fall upon them. "Will that be problematic for Makenna?" he asked alarmed. Tobin shook his head without a word, his eyes boring into Zvonimir as he spoke the General's name aloud. "No. She sent me to inform you that she will be moving out soon. It may take her longer, but she promises by the morn you'll have no problem forming an ambush once she's incapacitated the sorcerers powers."

Zvonimir tilted his head trying to remember when she mentioned the ambush; had he been to absorbed in his translation to comprehend what she actually said at Marz' briefing? The human watched the tree line worriedly while the ambassador pondered. "She told Marz that her Flamers and Stoners would injure the sorcerers to a point where their physical fatigue would impair their powers. Her goblins alone could not defeat them; at least not this many." Tobin specified.

"Yes, that should be fine. I shall inform my commander immediately." Zvonimir spouted, turning and galloping back to his leaders tent before the man could catch his attention. To the distant east, Zvonimir watched a group of armored goblins march stealthily into the meadows edge. Gazing back was the tall feminine figure he knew was Makenna. Soon after she finished directing the goblins, she disappeared into the darkness of the woods without a trace.


	8. Chapter 8

**Aaaack, I am very sorry for the belated update! With the holidays and all I just kept putting writing this chapter off, until finally school started up again and I became swamped with work! Thank you all for the reviews, I'll keep my hopes up for more! As always, the characters and plot are all attributed to Hilari Bell. Enjoy!**

The Hedgewitch:

Makenna crouched low onto the overwhelmingly frigid forest floor. The only sound beyond the beating of her own heart and breath was the sound of thick flakes of snow settling onto the tree branches. Each flake dug her deeper and deeper into a sense of isolation; their gentle landings carrying her away into her own thoughts. The eerily light sky deceived the late time; the night was already half over, making it seem as if fate wished her to fail. The winds had settled, yet the clouds raced past with alarming speed. Ripping her eyes from the ground to the sky a moment, her foot caught a frozen root. Hitting the ground hard, her breath escaped in a cloud of mist. "Ugh," she groaned quietly to herself while sitting up into a crouch once more. After a few more near stumbles she slowed her pace; taking more caution as she neared the sorcerers.

Soon, however, she caught up with her silent goblins friends, whose skills of stealth and efficient travel far surpassed her own. Nevnil, the Stoner she had persuaded to aid her, and Rosto a Flamer, sat calmly, peering over the edges of short ferns into an unnatural clearing of decaying leaves. The hedgewitch moved even slower, afraid her very pulse would be detectable by the sorcerers senses. Nevnil caught her glance and made a ready signal with his hands. Makenna hesitated, but knew they had planned to remain silent. She wanted to investigate their opponents further to ensure their own safety; and so she signaled him to postpone their plans momentarily.

The sorcerer camp was hardly visible, the look-away spell strong, but not strong enough to prevent the Hedgwitch from seeing through. The trees in the camp site were of a different nature; most being completely dead, and the foliage already rotten and decayed. Her guess was the common sorcerers had not been expecting someone to examine them so closely. Tentatively extending her neck up, she scanned the horizon searching for an opening of some sort; failing to find anything. Grumbling she moved closer to the camp, and expanded the distance she was from her goblins.

This time she found a weak spot. Near the tallest tree in the camp she saw the dull flare of a small fire; like stars struggling to twinkle in a shifting reflection of water. If she scanned the sky closely some of the clouds resembled smoke, a sign this particular sorcerer was well aware of how it's presence could be cloaked. There she would cast the first stone. There was where the old barbarian man Tobin had warned her about lay resting. Calmly Makenna retreated into the darkness of the foliage once more, always aware of her surroundings. Soon she found her goblins, and urged them to follow her with a sweep of her hand. Rosto came first with his Flamers. Their fire would distract the sorcerers into a panic that would mar their defenses and allow the Stoners to attack successfully. So, as planned, they focused half of the goblin fire on the camp perimeter, and half at the center; by driving the sorcerers out, stones would reach them easier, and hit harder, and faster.

As soon as the signal was made, Makenna began her own tactic for wearing the enemy down. Drawing runes of Disintegration, which would tear down any field defenses surrounding the camp, she watched as goblin fire slithered onto the decayed trees, drinking them up into bursting belches of fire and charred wood. The sorcerers look-away spell failed, revealing masses of cloaked figures who ran around to flaming tents in a panic. Few turned to face the goblin offenders, canting words of protection and curses of affliction in their own defense. The Flamers scurried behind trees to dodge strange forms of fire the sorcerers cast back at them. The blue lightening flames dissolved on impact of the environment, doing no perceivable damage; but frightening the goblins wits. As more and more sorcerers found their way to the outreaches of their camp to defend while others attempted to subdue the flames, Makenna signaled the Stoners to beginning their assault. From the northern flank of the enemy came a barrage of small stones aimed at debilitating points on the human body; the head, and the legs. Sorcerers crumpled in pain, while some persevered through the attack, making an offensive of their own. Gradually the goblins made two major divisions in the camp, driving the sorcerers into three individual pockets of fighting; opening their defenses even more.

Makenna inched closer to the old man's camp as he fought against the overwhelming flames and stones. From behind Makenna felt the whip of air left in the wake of a passing mass, and from her peripheral vision she watched a massive rock collide with the sorcerer's center tent in camp, sending more angry barbarians running to fight. The old man glanced over his shoulder in alarm, yet to the hedgewitches astonishment, the old man's expression morphed from worry into something far beyond anger. He strode towards the boulder fast enough to make one forget his age, and stopped abruptly to begin casting a spell of his own. She inched closer while he drew runes which Makenna had never seen before, surprised he used the same methods as her. The ground shook around him, tremors finding their way to her own unsteady feet. Goblins dodged chasms created in the ground in that instant.

She stopped gawking, and set aside the matter of examining sorcerers own methods of conjuring magic for later. All around chaos ran wild, breaking free from the panicked states of sorcerers with little knowledge of their enemy, and forming in the hearts of goblins who found their first assault to be less deliberate than they'd hoped for. Flamers pushed into the areas between pockets of sorcerers, Rosto desperately searching for Makenna from a distance. She waved, urging him on, and gazed around for Nevnil to follow Rosto's movement. If they didn't at least drive a single pocket into defeat by sunrise, and prevent the old man or other sorcerers from using their powers on centaur, they would have failed.

Calming herself, Makenna let memories of useful spells surface; runes of protection from curses of agony and paranoia, runes of healing her mother had used, and finally runes she had acquired from Master Lazur's books. Soon enough, she held them in her repertoire for immediate use, visualizing the very sweeps of her hands and feet in the decayed earth below. The old man had continued an offensive attack, sending swarms of invisible creatures to plague the goblins. From the rapid twitching and batting movements the goblins made to escape, she guessed the creatures were much like their Flinchers. Gathering stability in her footing, Makenna drew a large rune into the ground, sweeping a curved stroked of ancient text into earth that was soggy and rotten. Wind gathered behind her back, begging to be let loose into the open and wreak havoc to all in it's path; but she would only let it destroy her enemy. In the last bottom corner of her runes she drew a protection spell aimed at her goblins.

Suddenly, with the final runes drawn, the wind escaped, rolling over the open camp, flinging unanchored tents to the forest edges, knocking tall cloaked sorcerers down like sapling trees in a flood, and diverging from areas where goblins stood in awe struck fear. The result was catastrophe for the enemy, yet Makenna still had not achieved what she'd wished. Now she only had the old man's attention; her aim being to destroy him. He turned to face her squarely, dark eyes penetrating her own honey ones. He uncloaked his head, silver hair unevenly dyed in patches of red, crooked nose warted and boiled because of his constant use of unnatural elements. He was the smiling face of destruction; utter, feckless destruction. While she was aware his death would hardly count as a favor to the entire realm, she knew his arrival marked a start in the corruption of an untainted world.

She urged the wind to knock him down and break away the earth below his feet, but he held steadfast. While browsing her mind for runes of entrapment, or magical reflection, the old man cast a spell of his own; dead roots springing from the ground with life enough to immobilize her. "Do you dare send us strikes?" he bellowed in a crackling, but powerful voice. Inching closer to her he smiled widely, green and misshapen teeth mocking her weakness. After a moment of realization, she was disgusted to find he spoke _her _language; his barbaric roots suddenly questionable.

"I dare old man, no-- _Sorceror. _Your own aggression towards he centaur, and foremost the land, has earned me right to attack." she retorted with her intensifying anger. She had thought the attack would be merely for the revenge of the centaur, with no particular emotion woven in it for her, but she was wrong. Her new home was threatened by this nuisance, and she sensed her own animosity towards the Old Realm's corruption materializing once more.

"See it so. Die, then, of your own decision." With that he brought his hand to her face, like a spider ready to suck the life from it's prey. Bringing up her own defense, she recalled the rune of protection she cast on her goblins, and applied it to herself with a sweep of her hand in the air. The sorcerer man threw a black mass at her, the magic rolling into itself over and over like a turbulent cloud. Bolstering up her defense, she revised her rune to a spell of reflection, sending the mass ricocheting back towards the old man, who was unsuspecting. Immediately he collapsed and coiled up, body morphing unnaturally in agonizing pain. Makenna watched him for a moment before turning her attention to the goblins. They had the upper hand; most sorcerers were drained dry of their reserves of strength, and unable to maintain their casting of spells. In the distance Makenna heard the beat of war drums, and the sky held the promise of a late sunrise only delayed by the canopy of clouds. At last she saw the first centaur charge into the camp in an ambush. The remaining sorcerers tried frantically to call upon their curses and familiars to fight for them, but the centaur overpowered them by far. Letting a sigh go, Makenna marked her work as complete. Turning to the centaur completely, she shook off the dead roots now spineless, and scanned the horizon for her friends. First came Commander Marz, and then Tobin. Tobin rode one of the goblins rams equipped in heavy plates in case of combat. He captured her eye smiling.

"Tobin!" the hedgewitch called over the shrieks of battle, goblins now joining the centaur in physical attack. Tobin rode to her, his face slack in relief; until in a moment's time is became taut, and he pointed behind her shouting something incoherently. Turning, Makenna witnessed the old sorcerer stand to one knee, convulsing tortuously still, his hand carrying an invisible curse which he threw at her. Her vision fogged, until is was overrun by white and gray tones. She fell back onto the ground, unable to think beyond her own labored breathing, and the blindness of her eyes. "Tobin-" she called, hoping her friend would find an escape from another of the old man's attacks. One second she was aware of her own sleepiness, closing her eyes thinking she would rest for just a second; and the next she was dreaming in a world of darkness and isolation.


	9. Chapter 9

**Zomg...I wish to apologize for the ver, ver long wait on this update. If you stayed with me, I'd like to thank you! Now, I've been out of the swing of things in this story for a while, so as usual, if you don't like the direction, I will consider your opinion. In addition, because it has been so long, my writing style has changed, forgive me if it's not improved xD Enjoy :)**

**(The credit for this story and its characters goes to Hilari Bell, not me.)**

The Ambassador:

Ambassador Zvonimir paced the marbled halls of his chambers in the centaur palace. His hooves, cloaked by sheath like wrappings of copper, rang subdued by cloth draperies in the tall entry hall. This morning he had ridden swiftly to the centaur capital of Ferkai unburdened by gear, arriving a handful of hours after leaving Commander Marz's warriors to finish off the sorcerers. His mission was to notify the centaur king of their success, and prepare the city for the arrival of the Aggrippian clan's standing army and Makenna's goblin army. King Erol was pleased with his news, and immediately sent messages to members of the Clan Council concerning the victory. To Zvonimir's knowledge, all of the council members should have arrived in the city by now. The fact that only four of the five clan leaders other than his own arrived was a sign of turbulence; and the fact that Makenna and Marz had failed to ride ahead of their troops as planned presented an even greater issue. It was uncommon for Commander Marz to fall off schedule, especially in a time when enemies were on the prowl. Marz had never failed to follow through with his word as officer of the Aggrippian standing army. Zvonimir's primary concern was that something more important had reared it ugly head.  
Imaginings of dread wandered tortuously into his head. Had the sorcerers been revitalized and fought back? Or was it possible more had come to fight the centaur? Had something _happened_ to Marz or Makenna? That possibility worried him the most.

Abruptly hooves sounded at the hall entry door. The firm few knocks told him it was a messenger; he rushed to the door with as much composure as he could manage, opening it wide. "Ambassador Zvonimir?" asked the young centaur. He could only have been a few decades old. "I am. What news have you brought me?" he asked pulling back his vest to reveal his clan tabard. The messenger stood straight, his head high as he recited the message. "His Lordship wishes to speak with you in the war council chamber with the other clan leaders. Unfurled standards of the Aggrippians have been seen on the distant horizon, you have not but half an hour before they reach here."

Guards guided Zvonimir down the richly colored hall, fill with portraits of nobles, artifacts of ancient times, and battles standards draping across the royal coat of arms. It wasn't his home, but a welcome second home. His job dealt primarily with negotiations with the kings affairs on behalf of the Aggrippian clan when their leader was incapacitated by problems at home, yet occasionally he was brought into the Kings confidence as a neutral party in his council. Many of the other clan ambassadors took on the same role.

The end of the hallway led into a staircase which spiraled down into the lower floors of the palace. Once on the bottom floor the guards brought him to a heavily enforced door, gilded with bars of steel and wood, as well as gems and the royal crest; Bow and arrow on the left crossed over a feathered quill on the right all placed atop a shield. The guard knocked once, waited, and knocked again. A dull click sounded, and the door's many bolts suddenly retracted from their locked state, allowing someone behind the door to push it ajar.

"You may enter Zvonimir." A offered a familiar voice. Stepping in alone, Zvonimir bowed low to his king and fellow ambassadors. Making his way to one of the three empty seats, he quickly observed the papers and maps laid strategically around the mother of pearl topped war council table. A few less serious faces smiled weakly as his eyes met theirs', but most of the centaur were solemn.

"As you know, your clan's army is to arrive here soon, Zvonimir. It is my hope that both Commander Marz and your newest ally, Human Makenna of the Goblins, proceed along safely among the ranks. However, if that scenario is not a reality, we must take even more more decisive actions and swift executions this evening. In the small span of time we must endure before seeing if our wish is fulfilled by the Higher Beings of Itola, I think it wise for you to expand our knowledge of the newcomers. Tell us, what was your primary motivation for making this alliance without the advice of the Council?" His kings voice was meek, yet the words rang true and straight to his heart. To the council, Erol seemed terse and even disturbed, but to Zvonimir he was clearly disappointed. Shifting with such discomfort that even Marz' unwavering judgments couldn't procure, Zvonimir cleared his throat. "At the time we'd been wandering into the northern lands on early suspicions of the sorcerers. We had many days in which to consider the calculated significance of such an ally, and logically the benefits outweighed any of the hindrances. Makenna and her goblins have a magic unparalleled here, besides the few humans of whom we are aware. To ignore her presence would suggest we lacked diplomacy or a willingness for cooperation; and that is not the centaur way." Ending on a dignified note, he met each gaze of his peers with a ferocity uncommon amidst such modest creatures. However, his king appeared to be satisfied with his answer.

"Very well. It is quite infrequent that your judgment has been unfounded Zvonimir, as many of the council members and myself will admit. With that settled, pray tell, how did this human come to lead a nation of goblins?" Zvonimir, unable to utter a single word in explanation, realized that he had no information on that entire chapter in history. Everything he'd based his relations and decisions on was the present Makenna; her integrity, wit, intellect, and passion. Erol watched him expectantly.

"I know that she aided the goblins in escaping the wrath of some cultural purging in their old realm, but beyond that my knowledge is lacking. I do, however, know that they have goblins specifically skilled and trained in the ways of tome keeping. They are more civilized than one would expect of such a young world." Council members murmured all at once with this offering. The king waited patiently as their sudden discussions died down into silence. "That is both reassuring and unsettling at once, Zvonimir. But no matter. If that is all, we must preparations must be made for their arrival." The broad centaur stood, his golden fur a peachy tone in the dim torchlight. The council stood at once and bowed as the king exited first, others following according to rank while Erol and his heralds led the way to the palace's courtyard.

Sometime later, Zvonimir stood tall in an effort to see beyond the palaces stone wall perimeter. While placed on a terrace which observed the bustling city below, the palace was hardly at the optimal viewing distance from Ferkai's main gates. Numerous ancient carved tree shrines, most converted into living quarters for civilians, towered high clipping the flat expanse of sky which would give a glimpse of the arriving armies. Other more modern stone buildings stood only a handful of levels above the ground, and were very small. In his attempts at moving left and right to peer beyond the palace gate, his fellow ambassadors found a lack of manners. Their gazes shown they were annoyed at his anticipation.

Suddenly, horns sounded the arrival of the army into the barracks, while more refined horns sounded to announce the arrival of the standing armies commanding officer Marz. Even from a distance Zvonimir could tell his clansman was distraught, Zvonimir's stomach turned with anxiety at the sight of Marz dismal expression. Marz approached King Erol while the other ambassadors and clan leaders watched in anticipation, but when the King lowered his voice, some of the impatient centaur cried outraged.

"There is no need for secrecy, Marz." Inserted a particularly old and crotchety centaur ambassador, who was shot down immediately when Marz' short temper flared a warning. "You do not know of what I speak, Ewel, and this is not a formal council or you would be in your proper place of rank; at the end." The Old centaur's gray eyes gazed back scorchingly, yet he knew his rank was not prominent due to his senile tendencies. Marz met the stare of each centaur standing alert and anxious to hear what news he had to bring. The King stepped aside with a fluid hand gesture encouraging Marz to speak aloud.

"On this day currently, we have defeated the temporary threat of the barbaric sorcerers. However, with the help of our goblin allies we've discovered they've only served to be a minor problem in the scheme of things. To contribute to this haze of mysterious events, General Makenna has fallen ill; of what plague... we don't know." Just as he spoke a train of the short goblin creature and a tall human man emerged from beyond the gates. On their rams there weren't even as tall as a young adult centaur, yet they carried themselves with a ferocity that invoked observers with a keen sense of caution. Besides that, their eyes were quite solemn, for with them Tobin guarded the limp and pale looking body of Makenna. Her hair tangled and clothes bloodied, yet her face undeniably beautiful and calm, she seemed to be a foreign sacrifice of battle brought into Ferkai on an errand of the gods.


	10. Chapter 10

**Whaaaa, sorrrry!! Again this took a very long time to update, but at least I haven't given it up! If it's any excuse, I had a summer job, just started college, and am continuing part time. Plus I like to have a social life ;)**

**Anyway, a great thanks goes out to those who reviewed, honestly if I hadn't gotten the last review I did, I would not have continued. **

**It may be hasty, and patched together, and nowhere nearly as wonderful as Hilari Bell's writing, but here you are! Disclaimer: These concepts are Hilari Bell's, not mine. **

The Knight:

Tobin watched as the strangely dressed centaur creatures of the medical wing examined Makenna. Just seconds ago they roughly washed her face and pulled her hair back while studying her condition with scrutinizing eyes. With their clumsy hands they had set her on the stiff wooden table of the private, but unwelcoming recovery chamber. Soon, however, and to his relief, the female nurses urged the other male centaur from the room while they removed Makenna's bloody and torn clothes.

"Get out, human," Barked a particularly bitter centaur. Her human hair was gray and white, her skin wrinkling with age, and her disposition stern, Tobin could tell she had a short fuze.

"I will not leave her side. I will, however, turn around." He turned accordingly, giving them no option for discussion. A firm 'Hmpf' sounded from one of the younger centaur behind him, as if they'd understood his rash gesture more than his words. They muttered continuously behind him, until after a moment their light banter halted abruptly. Tobin reeled around.

"What-?" His eyes fell to Makenna in worry. A vast expanse of aubergine flesh stretched from her collarbone to below her blanketed chest. He assumed the area was the impact of the curses direct hit. The old centaur nurse ventured a tentative hand out to brush the area, but the minute their flesh made contact, her hand recoiled in pain. She yelped accordingly. The fellow nursemaids looked to Tobin in horror and confusion; their reactions did not bode well to Makenna's health.

"A curse" The Knight offered. The nurses eyes widened in realization and her hands pulled at her medical apron nervously. Faster than Tobin could think, she muttered an incantation which he could only guess was a prayer, issued commands to her fellow nurses, and began to work on a salve. Tobin inched closer to Makenna as the centaur women galloped around the sturdy, stone floor of the room in a rush. Soon scents of thyme, wintergreen, and galangal filled the room, their medicinal qualities even soothing Tobin's nerves. As he watched their work, he heard the sound of a centaur's entrance into the private room.

"These centaur women know their common curses, but this condition seems to be quite unique." The Ambassador assured the knight with smooth toned words. "A human sorcerers curse on a human. Possibly the only human in this realm who could even cure such a curse." With a bitter disposition Tobin cast his hand away in frustration. "Unless you know of any other humans who would be willing to help, ambassador." He turned to the centaur, eyes pleading for the health of his friend. Zvonimir looked away solemnly. "It may be possible to find someone, but before we even consider further action we must confirm that her condition is stable. It takes days, maybe even weeks for a curse to reveal its full effect." In silent agreement they once again looked to the working nurses. The salve had been completed and was administered both topically and trough vapors into Makenna's system. One younger looking maid turned to Zvonimir with a very concerned expression.

"Selz don'mir aquir qi sal bajar, jeh beylz felz ein unplanier" Tobin distinguished from her speech. Zvonimir turned to him to translate. "She doesn't know if it will work, but she thinks Makenna is stable for now. Now that she is in safe hands, will you accompany me to the council chamber?" With one last lingering gaze, Tobin turned to face the centaur squarely. "I cannot speak on Makenna's behalf without her goblins." The centaur led him out into the palace hall before replying. "Tobin, it's not commonplace for us centaur to welcome anyone into our war chambers. Not a race but our own has set hoof in those heavy set walls. If the King invites you, and you alone, regardless of the circumstances, I suggest you take up the offer." With a long pause the knight considered the offer, but his instinct and bond with his goblin friends told him to give it time. "Ambassador, before I accept or deny this offer, I wish to speak with Mourry." The Ambassador stared at him starkly for a very long time. Finally, he nodded grudgingly and led the way to the temporary goblin residence in the lower floors of the palace.

* * *

An hour later, and after much debate with his Goblins friends, the Knight rushed with a strangely dressed centaur to meet with the clan leaders in the Council Chamber. The lavishness of the palace décor seemed to only further his opinion that the centaur valued civility, intellect, and propriety among their most valorous of traits. The halls stretched eons above his head to meet with the physical attributes of the strange creatures, while the halls themselves were narrow. His mind fogged in disbelief as the mechanical like door protecting the room from the outside opened seemingly of its own accord. When it opened to reveal a massive room fit with a line up of exquisitely dressed centaur, he felt very much out of place. Eyes passing over the less than pleased faces of his allies, he took note of two empty seats. One between two clan leaders, and one directly across from the king. Hesitantly he stepped through the threshold without a word, and before he knew it, the centaur stood and bowed respectably. After a returning bow, a deep commanding voice bellowed out, rattling Tobins bones. Sounding like an ancient mountain of a thousands ages who had finally decided to speak, the speakers words would embed themselves in the knights mind for the rest of his life.

"Welcome, Knight Tobin to Otherworld. Please, take a seat."


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks to all my readers for staying with me!! Reviews really remind me that I have people waiting to hear more, and motivate me to write more. Again, updates will be infrequent, but I am not giving this fan fiction up. As usual, the story and its characters belong to Hilari Bell, not me. Also, I will have another update fairly soon after this one, I'm on break and plant to get two or three chapters done :) Enjoyyy!

Chapter 11:

The Knight:

The knight gazed around the well adorned council chamber in hesitation. The seat which the King pointed to was directly across from him. It was unclear which of the two seats were intended for the leader of the goblins, so Tobin took the one offset from the King. "I thought you called this world Itola?" He inquired. King Erol smiled, his wrinkled skin pulling softly into a deep seated expression of amusement. "For today we may call it 'Otherworld' if only to suit the names our guests use." He sat down gracefully, and the rest of the centaur followed. Tobin made sure he was last to sit. Briefly ripping his gaze from the nobly dressed leader of the centaur, he found not a single friendly face save for Commander Marz's and Ambassador Zvonimir's. An unpleasant chill shot up his spine.

"I have many, many questions to ask you, Tobin of the goblins, but we have time for only a fraction of them." King Erol folded his hands business like in front of himself. Tobin watched keenly, the silence of the rest of the room seeming to buzz into his brain. "I don't know if I may be called that, for I am not of the goblins, but of humans. It is my leader, Makenna, who is of the goblins. Not myself." Tobin bowed apologetically while correcting the King. A few whispers broke out, but the King's raised hand silenced all. "Yes, that is what Zvonimir assured me. How is it this young girl came to lead the remnants of an entire race, not even her own?" Tobin frowned, knowing the story was a long and complicated one. Nothing he could say would truly narrate Makenna's life or personality. However, he had to tried.

"By our standards of time, she is not young. She fled her village, and essentially our entire realm, before she'd even been the age to start schooling. Hedgewitches became the victims of a power hungry hierarchy who would not accept their magic. She then met the goblins in her travels, who like Hedgewitches, were being driven from the realm, though they were not on friendly terms with each other at first. After finding her way into their culture, she soon aided them in rebelling." Tobin answered concisely. The King nodded calmly and asked "I wish to know more details, but I will stave my curiosity. May I ask, how did _you_ meet her?" His eyes were solemn, but Tobin felt them penetrating his own. Instead of casting them down, he held strong, refusing stubbornly to yield. "Saying we 'met' suggests we became acquainted on good terms. It's better to say we confronted one another." Gathering the distant memories was as easy as gathering an elusive fog in a glass with no bottom. He paused to think. "I was assigned a mission to rid the realm of goblins and their 'sorceress' leader. It was necessary for me to defend my family name, and prove that I was not the traitor as I had been deemed. To do that I had to plant a stone which would reveal their position to the Hierarchy. I was captured, and held captive for sometime before I came to understand that it was wrong to purge the realm of goblins and hedgewitches. I had planted the stone, but when soldiers came to destroy the goblins, I hardened my resolve to help them escape." He finished, leaving out the details of exactly how Makenna was able to rip open a door to Otherworld in the events after. The King stared at him in silence for what seemed ages. Oddly, the rest of the room was silent. Tobin only just remembered just a few of them spoke his language. "I think this situation is curious, Lordling." The King finally spoke aloud. "I do not quite understand how you come from a world that is so pointlessly violent, yet your people themselves revel in balance with the world rather than conquest. I have heard so from Marz and Zvonimir, who have revealed some of your customs to me. It seems fate brought our people together." The Knight considered the king's statement. Something from another world pushed the goblins to this one, they would have remained in the old Realm had the purge not taken place. Yet they had also chosen to help the centaur, rather than live reclusive as they had in the Old Realm. The goblins seemed changed by Otherworld. Or was it Makenna who had changed them?

"I think that events have come to pass which have brought us together, yes." He finally concluded, all prophetic overtones aside. The King nodded quietly. "I thank you for your knowledge, and now I think you are due an explanation from us." Erol stood solidly from his throne, purple robes stitched delicately with the centaur crest, draped across his powerful human chest. His eyes twinkled. "The Centaur are a race, as you see, half what you call human and horse. We are a very ancient people. By our lore, Itola was formed by beings much greater than anything imaginable, borne of the sun and moon. This land is rough, and delicate, very old, but very young. It does not undergo many changes beyond the seasons. It seems the nature that living creatures depend on ripens and decays as quickly as the nature of your Old Realm. Yet, the rivers, trees, mountains, and plains remain almost the same as they did centuries ago. I'm sure you have taken notice of this, Knight. Your own hair has probably grown very little, though you have been in Itola for quite some time." The King pointed at Tobin's roughly mopped head of hair. Tobin nodded, observing that the kings hair was plaited into regal braids down past his naval. It was easy for him to accept these truths after all his experience in this strange world. Instead of asking the King his overwhelming number of questions, he sat in an appreciative state. The King began to pace the room, glancing at draperies of woven maps and illustrations of what Tobin guessed was lore.

"However, creatures die as easily as twigs may crack. Under the right circumstances, this world allows all creature to live a very long time, if they live in balance with nature, and live peacefully. This balance is why Itola has thrived so. There are other ancient races we know of which have also thrived for all of time. The Gollums of the south and the Treants of the north, are the eldest of all. They hold knowledge of the creation of all things, but we maintain our distance out of respect, regardless of our yearning curiosity. There are too many creatures to name, and many yet undiscovered. The newest arrivals are humans." The King made his rounds circling the table, and finally settled back into his seat. Tobin's ears perked at the mention of humans. He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Humans, you say?" Erol nodded knowingly in response.

"Humans arrived in Itola well before you, sir Knight. We have had brief encounters with a few who stumbled upon an entrance to Otherworld. Yet, the human who we know the most is Agna." A few centaur tore their gazes upward at the mention of the name. Tobin froze. "Agna? How did Agna survive this long? He traveled here ages ago, he is a legend, a Saint to the people of the Old Realm." His mind reeled. If Agna existed, he could help Makenna. He could cure her, and teach her knowledge of the past which had been erased from the books of priests and hedgewitches over time. Before the King could speak again, Tobin finally allowed himself to believe the goblins _had_ been brought to the centaur. "Where is he?" The Knight's tone was deep, mature, and demanding. Marz stubborn face, though friendly, became startled. The Kings face changed only for a moment. "Now, Sir Knight, we arrive at the most important motivation for my bringing you here. The centaur of Ferkai wish to make a deal with you. With the help of your crafty Goblins, we propose a formal alliance against the invading barbarians, of to whom you retain the closest ties. In return, we will protect your small goblin city, and guide you to Agna."

Tobin wanted to agree, but a small feeling in the pit of his stomach urged otherwise. "I cannot make any deal with you. I am not the leader of the goblins. Makenna is the only one who may bargain with you. Moreover, I'm sure you know by Marz or Zvonimir's word that bargains are quite important to the goblins. They will only accept what they deem fair. From trades of knowledge, to food, to aid, they always use careful judgment and consideration. If you respect their customs, you will give us time to cure our leader, and discuss this with our army before expecting a decision."

The King seemed displeased. An unease settled into the room quite rapidly. "If that is your wish._ I_ will give you all the time necessary, but our enemy will not. There is more that meets the eye with you, human. I trust you as much as I trust my commanders and clan leaders, please do not give me reason to do otherwise." The kings words rang clear enough in warning. He stood and turned his gaze to the rest of the council in the chamber. "Marz, will you please explain to the council what has transpired? I wish to ask Tobin a few private questions." Tobin, pushing the limits of his welcome, shook his head. "I cannot, I must begin planning how to find a cure for Makenna. Every second that passes means we are closer...I would never forgive my self if..." he trailed, unable to speak the words which referenced her death. The King examined him closely as they neared the open door to the chamber. "You may go. The next time we speak it is my wish to meet your leader and ask _her_ questions." Erol's words seemed unnatural, and forced. He nodded, and swiftly made his way out of the chamber. The last words in Tobin's ears were the honey like translations of Zvonimir and Marz as they spoke to the rest of the council. He glanced back at the chamber one last time before sprinting to his room.


	12. Chapter 12

**Update! Thanks for hanging around to read! Please review! It's the only thing that keeps me going...**

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to Hilari Bell, not me. I do not own them. **

Chapter 12:

The Knight:

Tobin languidly pressed his back against the closed chamber door. Eyes shut tightly, he fended off a powerful headache induced by hours of conversing with the centaur king. Thoughts swarmed around his recap of Makenna's and his former lives. He prayed the centaur were satisfied, but knew his is plight was not at an end. Soon enough the knowledge he received would have to be extracted from his saturated brain and relayed to the goblins. He didn't feel confident that he could hold onto every last detail for very long.

The night was approaching rapidly, and the wind whistled, ominously portending to an approaching storm. "I'm ready for bed." He proclaimed to himself, and struggled to remove his leaning body from the door before he collapsed onto the chamber bed. After a moment, a realization popped into his numbed brain. He had to get up.

"Well, that'll have to wait, knight." offered a squeaky voice from the foot of the bed. Tobin, who had relished in the comfort of being alone for a moment, jumped nearly two feet from the bed back onto his feet. "Mourry!" He exclaimed. The crinkly goblin grinned mischievously.

"Aye, what's it to ya? And what are ya waitin' for, get down to the medical wing before they barricade ya out." The goblin warned.

Tobin hesitated. "I ought to tell someone about what I've learned. Get Master Erebus quickly, and meet me down in Makenna's medical chamber." Tobin thought of the coin Erebus gave Makenna in return for her knowledge of the goblin city affairs, but he realized it was lost in the abyss of her baggage in a neighboring chamber. Instead, he reached for a button from his loose vest, but found only frayed threads from where dozens of buttons had been before. Mourry looked at him knowingly and shook his head.

"Yer fine, no need for bribery here. Just get down there, I'll tempt the Bookie, he'll come." Mourry replied as he scurried to the door. He peered up at the handle well above his head, and hopped up to grasp it. After a moment of hanging, the door clicked open softly and swung into the room. The goblin peered back, proud of his cleverness, and proceeded out into the hall. Tobin stood thinking a moment before he stole a few blankets off of his hastily made bed, and then a piece of strange fruit from a bowl by the door. Had he not known he was in the company of centaur creatures, he would have mistaken the accommodations as near normal. Rushing out the door without looking, he ran into the wide, solid figure of a familiar centaur.

Zvonimir clumsily stepped back, surprise written over his face. "Tobin, excuse me, I have urgent news regarding Makenna" the centaur spoke. Tobin was all ears, impatiently stepping nearer the medical wing. "What is it? Speak! Is she all right?" His tone was unforgiving, his worry obvious. The Ambassador took a step back and bowed forgiveness, his inner irritation masked. "Sorry to worry you Lord, but she is only speaking aloud in her sleep. The nurse thought you should be there in the event that she revealed something of importance." Zvonimir examined Tobin's armful of fabric and fistful of fruit while he spoke. "But I see you are already on your way there. You know, she has ample blankets, as well as a small hearth fire for warmth-" The centaur began with a small smirk. Tobin quickly turned his gaze to the empty hallway ahead of him. "Actually, they're for me in case I fall asleep or get hungry." Tobin returned a bit too harshly. Zvonimir waved a hand. "Do not let me keep you, then. In the morning we may discuss matters of meeting Agna." He offered.

Tobin's attention became torn. "Agna? But Erol said that was part of a deal-" He began. Zvonimir shook his head slowly. His eyes were weary and tired.

"The King has concluded he will allow you a few weeks time to decide. However, we don't have that time. Conflicts abroad and within the clans themselves are upsetting the calm sea that once was our nation. We need to eliminate one of these problems soon, or they will escalate into civil war. You may think we centaur are intelligent enough to reject pride, but in fact it is quite the opposite. We claim modesty, but that is a mask. After centuries of living, we still remain divided into prideful clans." He gathered his wits and continued speaking. "When Makenna is awake I will give you a more realistic account of our history than the one our king offered, but you must promise not to reveal this to anyone but your most trusted goblins." His voice was low, barely audible in the last of his words. Tobin nodded his head.

"Then until the morning. I'll be in the medical wing waiting." Tobin bowed his head respectfully and strode down the marble hallway until he found a vast staircase leading to the first floor. After passing frames of woven pictures, silk banners, and other clothe tapestries draping from wall to wall to keep the fall chill at bay, he found himself nearing a the more modest corridor of the medical wing. In a way it was more reminiscent of the Old Realm castles. The wooden framework revealed panels painted simply, with shorter ceilings than the upper dormitory floors. His clenched hand knocked briefly on the medical wings critical condition chamber before he entered. Only a single gray haired nurse monitored Makenna. Her sleepy brown eyes looked up at Tobin's familiar face with fatigue.

"Felz shavir. Thank you." She spoke quietly. Tobin bowed, guessing she thanked him for coming to see Makenna. "Thank you for taking care of her." He offered, pointing to the sleeping hedgewitch. The nurse smiled and nodded, settling into her seat. Tobin edged up to Makenna, seeing she lay well cushioned in a peculiar centaur bed. Raised from the ground only a small height, similar to their chairs, the centaur bed was extremely wide. It was large enough for a single centaur to lay down as a horse would in a stable. To Tobin's eyes, Makenna looked as if she was in a coffin.

Shaking those thoughts from his head before they took hold of his sanity, he sat beside her, pulling the sheer curtain aside which gave her privacy. To his distress, the purple colored flesh which had started at her collarbone now spread below her chin. Resting his hand on her forehead, his nerves were only calmed by the fact that her skin was lukewarm and her sleep quiet.

Makenna mumbled undecipherable jibberish. Tobin stilled, and listened, his hand still resting on her forehead. From behind he heard the light snores of the nurse. What she had thought were words of their language was in reality only nonsense.

"Makenna, can you hear me?" The Knight asked knowing she could not. Every fiber of him wished she could answer back. Never before, not even when he was away for months, had he yearned so badly to hear her voice. She mumbled more nonsense and stirred. Tobin removed his hand and sat back.

"Do you remember when you told me the story of the farmer and his apples and grapes? I don't know why, but speaking with these centaur made me think of it. They have no idea of where we come from, and no matter how much they think they know us, they never will. Makenna, I feel as if we are the only people who truly remember what it is like to be human, however skewed both our perceptions of that happen to be. I know you won't say it, but I will. I miss the Old Realm. I miss my father's farm, my sisters, my brother, even my mother. It's been months since we left the goblin city, I miss being able to live with those familiar faces and customs. Here, everything is different. Being overwhelmed by these battles has made it impossible to speak with you about the things I'd always wished to talk about. Now that you're sick, I fear I'll never be able to speak with you again." The Knight bowed his head low, resting the bridge of his nose on a closed fist. Silently, he confronted the loneliness that came with being one of the only humans among goblins and centaur.

After a very long time, the heat of the fire slowly subsided and Tobin realized he must have dozed off. Makenna slept quietly now, her lovely face washed clean of years of stress. Her hair spilled unbound over the fluffy pillows of her bed in a cascade of silken chocolate. Fully understanding she was unaware of his presence, he swept aside a strand of hair which had fallen on her brow. Images of the dirty, but string willed so called sorceress he once saw her as filled his mind. He had once felt bitter towards her, but long ago he realized her spirit was kind and genuine. His loyalty to her was stronger than any bond he'd felt before.

It was then that he noticed the small Bookie sitting on an adjacent chair, dozing silently while at attention. Erebus looked tired, but then again, his wrinkles and sinking nose always made him seem tired and old. Before the Knight could consider letting the small goblin sleep, the Bookie's eyes fluttered open.

"Good evening, Sir Knight. Or should I say good morn? I hear you have learned much from the centaur, and I am eager to know-" He excitedly began. Tobin smiled at the goblins ability to remain perky.

"Yes, I do, but it seems that the information I received was biased. Zvonimir plans to explain the truth to us after dawn. We may wait until then." The knight answered. "As I recall, you owe Makenna a bit of knowledge yourself." Tobin added with a smirk, procuring an amused grumble from the Bookie.

"Yes, yes. That is true. But that may wait until the Mistress is awake, which I'm sure is not far from now. I will tell you, the other goblins have the same optimism. Mourry has dispersed the provisions and supplies the centaur have provided us, and he says most of the goblins are not worried about their general. They can only see her as the resilient woman she has always been." With a reassuring smile the goblin stretched and resettled into his small seat by the edge of Makenna's bed.

Tobin nodded. "She is very strong. Yet this curse is strange. Her skin plagues all who touch it, if it spreads and she does not wake, soon no one will be able to take care of her without afflicting themselves." Tobin peered wearily at the bruise upon her neck, which had remained in place since he last observed it. The Bookie followed his gaze with perceiving eyes.

"I am sure someone knows how to cure her. If I had the knowledge of such curses, I would gladly offer it without trade. My knowing of most curses, though extensive, remains bare in the department of barbaric curses derived from the supposed Dark One." The Bookie stated with a shiver. "Though quite a handful of humans have traveled to this realm, only someone who is schooled in the runes and spells of the barbarians may fully comprehend how to reverse such a plight." Erebus let out a sigh, and peered curiously out the window facing the on coming light. Once again, like the day they fought the band of sorcerers, the sun's rise was delayed by the presence of moisture laden clouds. A sense of foreboding settled into the already disturbed city of Ferkai.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello againn :) Hopefully this will make up for my neglect of this fic over the past few months ; ;**

**Also, I think I mentioned it before, but a reviewer reminded me that Hilari Bell has two more books coming out in this series. Are you as excited as I am? ^_^**

**Disclaimer: These ideas and characters belong to Hilari Bell, not me.**

Chapter 13:

The Hedgewitch:

_ "Trapped! I'm trapped!" The Hedgewitch cried. The only responses to her exclamations were the eerie echoes her very own voice made in the recesses of the dark world in which she was stuck. She had no perception of time, no reference beyond the swirling dark tones that she initially thought were the backs of her shut eyelids. Those dark colors came from somewhere far beyond her own body, yet the pain she felt aching her body all too real. Her only connection to the world surrounding her mortal body was the brief and infrequent sound of voices. Most were unfamiliar, or indistinguishable, but when the deep soothing voice of her human companion made it to her ears, she finally saw a glimpse of hope. The curse which was cast upon her was unique and advanced in nature. While her body may fret and sweat under a fever, and decay, her mind was the real subject of torture. Although the old sorcerer was strong, Makenna was certain someone much more powerful had taught him that spell. _

_ "Once I am free of this blasted curse I shall hunt down the one whose aim it is to exploit this world." She vowed, though no one could hear. Her spirit began to still in the quiet. Every second she thought passed could equal days in Otherworld. She already sensed Otherworld time was unmatched with the Old Realm, and knew there existed variances in how life elapsed for different realms. She grimaced. _

_ "Tobin..." she whispered. "Mourry...Miggy, Regg, I miss them all." Her dry tears of anguish flowed away into the abyss. She wondered if everyone was alive, or safe. Until she would know for sure, she had to endure through the unwaveringly dismal cage that was her lonesome mind. _

The Ambassador:

Zvonimir stood tall in the medical wing chambers, his head only feet below the rafters. A small group of familiar faces crowded around him, while the sleeping form of Makenna lay only an arms distance away behind their concerned expressions. Tobin crossed his arms, his gaze unforgiving. Of anyone of Makenna's companions, he was the one most concerned with her fate. He was willing to take on the weight of an entire race while finding a cure for her plague. His hollow eyes also told Zvonimir that the knight missed his hedgewitch dearly.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you all for your patience. I'm glad only a few confidants have been brought here." Out of habit the ambassador bowed respectfully to the knight, an old looking goblin, and finally Mourry. The head nurse was out on errands for the morning, seeing as the centaur nurse aids refused to help or oversee the 'infected' Makenna for fear they'd catch the plague themselves. Zvonimir barely had time for explanations, but the guests of the centaur were owed much more than they received.

"Allow me to correct the information you received, Lord. Our King did not cover all topics of importance. For one, there are all together six centaur clans. My own clan, the Aggrippians, the Ferken, Kozlo, Ferkai, Seerz, and Aggripa. The names are unimportant, but we hold onto them out of pride. As an ambassador, I must be accepting of all tolerances, even intolerant beliefs. Most centaur live in a stubborn segregation, only united by the core clan, the Noble Ferkai of this city. The Ferkai are the root of all clans, and breed our rulers. The King failed to mention these divisions." Zvonimir folded his own arms in contemplation.

"You think that your clan issues will be bothersome to the goblins?" Mourry inquired. Zvonimir reclined into a seat, closer to the faces of his acquaintances.

"Yes. Most certainly. The King always has an agenda, and that is to maintain control over his domain. If he were to gain the trust of an ally, such as the goblins, he would have even more leverage over the other clans." The ambassador answered in a deflated tone. "I respect Erol highly. He means nothing malicious by his decisions, but the other clans are becoming more and more upset by his actions. It came to my attention that the Ferken clan leader has failed to attend out councils for many months. This fact does not bode well. The messengers sent to the Ferken city have returned with refusals of contact. Initially I thought the Ferken had been attacked by sorcerers, but it is now my belief that they have been corrupted by dark magic. This persuasive force could spread among the clans. If that is the case, we desperately need someone who can fight that magic on equal footing." The group nodded in mutual agreement.

"Zvonimir, that seems possible, but why would that mean we should not bargain with the king?" Tobin questioned. Mourry and Erebus looked at Tobin surprised.

"What is this bargain?" Mourry demanded. Tobin ran a hand through his own brown hair in uncertainty.

"I didn't mean to withhold this information from you. I was going to tell you last night, but the night faded away quickly..." He began, ashamed. Mourry nodded in understanding. "The King wants us to formally align with Ferkai against the barbarians, and in return he will bring us into contact with Agna, who could possibly help Makenna." Tobin finished.

"That's right. Now to answer your questions sir knight, I remind you, you came to fight the barbarians by yourself, without any knowledge of the centaur. The goblins only have a loose alliance with my clan. In our contract we made a _promise _to help one another, not an oath as the king would demand. Aligning with the Ferkai also implies that you would be under the subjugation of the centaur, for the Ferkai are the noblest of the clans and hold imperial power. As a result, the King could use you as any common standing army, to fight both the barbarians abroad, and possibly the barbarians corrupting one of our own clans. I know that is not the war for which you signed up." The ambassador finished.

Tobin shut his gaping mouth for a moment. He cursed his blindness to the obvious twisted nature of the bargain. The bargainer always has the advantage, and being among goblins for as long as he has, he should have seen it.

"It is no wonder the goblins trust Makenna with their lives. In the few days that I have been overseer in her wake, I have been blind to the details of this bargain, details which she would have understood. It is most definitely not in our best interest to make any bargain with Erol." He stood and began pacing, his mind racing with his new realizations. The sound of heavy rain made its way into the room. Like a thousand steel knives cutting into the rock, the late fall storm was turbulent. It was also uncommon. The weather should be drier this late in the season. The disparity in the weather behavior only added to everyone's feelings of unease.

"Here are my instructions for you knight Tobin. It is my understanding that Agna resides in the mountains many leagues away. After three days of traveling due south from dawn til dusk, you should happen upon a frozen lake. Do not cross the lake, instead, travel around its perimeter. Immediately after you pass its yonder shores of ice, you should spot a log and boulder structure in the mountainside. Agna resides there during the winter months. The weather at those elevations is much colder than here so you will need extra provisions, which I've already set aside. Fortunately, the cold also means you're unlikely to run into any rogue barbarians. I know you are a capable of safely guiding the goblins, and your hedgewitch." The ambassador had every detail set out for them. Tobin could not have been more appreciative. He awaited the centaur's final words solemnly.

"I fear I cannot say much more, for I have already betrayed my nation. But I will say this: If you and your goblins happen to disappear in a day or so, you would still be allies with the Aggrippians. The other clans would not follow you, and you would have our aid in battle with the barbarians." The Ambassador bowed low, and gazed for a long time at the bed ridden hedgewitch.

"Farewell, I hope to see you all again soon." With that, he stepped out of the room and disappeared from the knight's sight.

Tobin stood in contemplative silence for a long while before turning to his goblins companions. They both peered up at him in a mutual understanding of their plan. Mourry grinned his crotchety grin, and stood with a energetic spring in his step.

"I don't know about ye two, but I think it's high time we get out of this blasted city and wake the general!"


End file.
